


Split

by Thorins_mistress



Series: Spooks and Aurors [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Spooks | MI-5
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Conspiracy, Crossover, Gen, Muggle/Wizard Relations, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Terrorism, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-13
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-02-25 05:18:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 19
Words: 51,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2609918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thorins_mistress/pseuds/Thorins_mistress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A broken Spook, a semi-broken Auror, liaising between the Muggle and Wizarding worlds. Trying to keep the world from falling into chaos.</p><p>[As I write this, it has essentially become a rewriting of Series 8 of Spooks with a wizarding element to Nightingale.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Whole New World

**Author's Note:**

> Essentially Series 7 and the beginning of Series 8 of Spooks has been compressed into approximately eight months preceding the start of this fic. Harry’s sixth and seventh year are TOTALLY different from canon, as is most of the war with Voldemort. There is LOTS of handwaving going on, okay? Just go with it, if you can.
> 
> Essentially, this is all Richard Armitage's fault, ok?

**June 2009**

“You want me to meet with whom? To do…what?” Lucas asked. “It is not kind of you to joke at 8 am, Harry.”

 

“I want you to meet with the Ministry of Magic liaison from their law enforcement division, the Auror Corps. Name’s Harry Potter.” Sir Harry Pearce, head of Section D of MI5, leaned back in his chair, looking as cool as if he had just offered Lucas a cup of tea.

 

“Harry, are you having me on? What are you talking about? Magic? There’s no such thing. Did the Russians or your Indian friend hit you too hard on the head and we missed it?”

 

“I assure you there is such a thing as magic, Lucas; I’m totally lucid. Adam used to be the liaison, but you know that he is still in the hospital and won’t be back for awhile, if ever, while recuperating from the car bomb. I would rather Ros deal with the Home Secretary than wizards.”

 

What did it say about him, Lucas, that Harry thought him more suited to liaise with _wizards_ and magic than the Home Secretary? “So is this like Scotland Yard for wizards, this Auror Corps? And is Potter the head?”

 

“Aurors are a mix of Scotland Yard, MI5, and 6. Most of their issues tend to be internal and wizard-only, but things do occasionally spill over into our world, and vice-versa. They recently finished a nasty war with a terrorist bigot.”

 

“Lovely.” Lucas’s voice was dry. “Do you have a file for me? And you didn’t mention Potter’s rank.”

 

“Hmm, as far as I know, you and he are similar. Fairly young, though it would probably be better for you to get the whole story from him.” Harry presented Lucas with a yellow Post-It. “Here’s his mobile. You can set up a meet ASAP.”

 

Lucas simply nodded and pushed himself out of the chair. “Alright, Harry.”

 

Harry waved a hand at Lucas, his mind already occupied with other thoughts. Lucas made his way back to out to his desk, staring at the sticky note as if it would burst into flame or fly away at any moment.

 

“You got wizard duty?”

 

The voice coming across the office was as dry as his, if a tad higher and, dare he say, a bit sweeter. “Ros.” Lucas turned to stare at her, shaking his head as he did so. “You knew about this?”

 

“Oh yes. We’ve been called in on some cleanup efforts on that end. Not so different from our own terrorists, really. Specific rhetoric is different, but the ideas are the same. Adam use to liaise, but not with this guy, Potter. I think there has been some housecleaning of personnel over there.”

 

“Indeed.” Apparently he was going for one word replies today. Ros’s blunt yet open statements intrigued him, however. “Why me?”

 

“Well,” she said, hesitating for just a beat, “Apparently I’m too blunt. Who would have thought?” He did laugh at that, even as she glared at him. "It also probably has to do with the fact that I’m, in their words, a complete Muggle." 

 

“A what?”

 

“A Muggle. Non-magical. Apparently both you and Adam have a little bit of Wizarding blood, and you were requested. Well, once they learned you had … been returned.” Ros’s voice got a tad softer. While he never got pity from her, after his debrief with her and Harry whenever Russia came up she was not quite as blunt. At least _after_ she had tasered him while thinking he was a double agent.

 

“That is news to me. I have never even heard of the Wizarding World.”

 

“It is not uncommon,” Ros explained. “Apparently, people born in magical families that don’t have magic are called ‘Squibs,’ and often turn to our world.”

 

“I see. Well, let me send this guy a text and see what happens next. Are they based in London?”

 

“Yes.” Ros tossed the word over her shoulder as she went to her desk.

 

Lucas spent the next few minutes composing his text message.

            _Auror Potter, my name is Lucas North, your new liaison with the intelligence services. Understand you are based in London. Name the time and place for a meet?_

 

It was not five minutes before Lucas’s phone buzzed to indicate a new text had come in.

            _Mr. North, a pleasure. May I suggest the Leaky Cauldron pub next to 48 Charing Cross Road? It straddles both worlds and you should have no problem getting in. 4pm today?_

 

Though Lucas was unfamiliar with the name or address, after looking it up he discovered he had known the area quite well before his ‘visit’ to Russia as it was known for its bookshops. It was even fairly close to Thames House. He replied with a quick affirmation before leaning back in his chair to think. Wizards and magic? It all seemed too large of a stretch. Though as he thought about it, he realized that he knew nothing of his family’s heritage beyond his grandparents, and even that was only on his father’s side. His father’s parents had both been orphaned at a young age and neither, as far as he knew, had ever talked about their birth families. His mother had never said anything about her parents, though he knew she had been raised by a maternal aunt.

 

He didn’t have long to contemplate as Ruth interrupted him by putting a file on his desk. “Here are all the notes from Adam’s time as liaison. Nothing from before that, I’m afraid.”

 

“Thanks, Ruth.” He flashed a small smile at her. He liked her much more than Connie and she was much better at the job. Lucas felt a kinship with her, though he couldn’t put his finger on why.


	2. An Initial Introduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Does what it says on the tin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is double the first chapter. I can't see that as something I can keep up with indefinitely. :)

Lucas had spent most of the day reviewing files and putting together terrorism puzzle pieces. There were no 'active' missions currently; instead they were just keeping track of all the available data.

 

The day still dragged, however. Looking outside at 3 o’clock, Lucas realized that he could walk to his meeting with Potter. The London sky, though gray, was quite dry, and the pub was less than two miles from Thames House. “Ruth? I’m off. Need to clear my head before this meeting.”

 

Ruth barely glanced up at him, as papers were spread all over her desk. “Sounds good, Lucas. See you tomorrow, hopefully. Go home after your meet.”

 

Lucas nodded but didn’t reply as he quickly packed his bag. Malcolm and Tariq were staring at computer screens, Jo was with an asset, and Ros was nowhere to be seen. He sighed as he left the office.

 

He had been right to decide to walk, but rather than clearing his head the thoughts continued to swirl. Magic and Muggles and Squibs? And it seemed Harry Pearce really wasn’t having him on.

 

As Lucas strode up the named street, making sure to get there right at 4, he saw a building that didn’t fit. It looked squished next to 48 Charing Cross. _This_ was his destination? The exterior looked grimy – even grimier than most of London, if he thought about it. The pub’s sign, reading The Leaky Cauldron, swung ominously over the entrance, and waiting under it was a young man. To Lucas, he looked too young. “Auror Potter?” he asked. There was nothing to indicate Potter was magical or of some sort of intelligence service: he was dressed similarly to Lucas in dark jeans and a quality button down shirt. His only other accouterment was a small black messenger bag slung over one shoulder.

 

“Ah, Mister North. I wanted to be sure you could find the pub. I know you come from Squibs and should be able to see it, but...” he trailed off. “Well, obviously it wasn’t a problem. Good. Shall we go in?” He didn’t wait to see if Lucas followed him, just pushed the door open and went in. Lucas let his eyes adjust to the light in the dimly-lit pub as he saw Potter talking to the barman and pointing to a back booth.

 

After they settled into the booth, Potter spoke first, saying, “So Mister North…”

 

“Lucas.”

 

Potter nodded. “I’m Harry.”

 

“Nice to meet you,” Lucas replied. While not _quite_ the most awkward conversation with a fellow intelligence agent in Lucas’s experience, this was quickly moving up the list. “I understand your people requested me for this assignment.”

 

Potter nodded and began digging into his messenger bag. “Unlike your colleague Ms. Myers, you have a bit of magic in you. This is the dossier we prepared on your magical origins.” He smirked triumphantly when he found the file and slid it across the table to Lucas. “And other items, of course.”

 

“You’re just giving this to me? Why?”

 

“An act of trust. I know that you don’t know anything about the wizarding world, and, in fact, have not been in country during the past few…” he paused for a moment before saying, “well, larger than internal wizarding incidents.”

 

Lucas averted his eyes slightly and his left hand reached for his right shirtsleeve to ensure his armband tattoo was covered. It was a nervous tick that he hadn’t been able to eradicate from his behavior yet. “I see. You have some thorough researchers, then.”

 

“Well, Sir Harry let us know about Adam, of course, and passed along your name as a potential liaison for us to vet. Apologies it has taken us so long to get back to you, but I understand you’ve had some issues with the Russians. We have our own issues with the Russians, on the wizarding side, of course, so I understand. But yes, we have some _very_ good researchers.”

 

“I’m afraid all I had to go on were the notes left by Adam, and he, from what I understand, was not in contact with you personally.” Lucas sat back in the booth and tried to look calm and nonchalant.

 

“Yes, well, we had some housecleaning to do, you understand.”

 

Lucas nodded. “So, tell me about yourself. Since I don’t have a dossier on you.”

 

Harry smirked again. “Let’s see: I just turned 29. I’m an orphan and grew up in the Muggle world before going to school, Hogwarts, in the wizarding world at 11. I’m a bit of a figurehead, celebrity, and ‘hero’” – here Potter actually made air quotes with his hands – “in the wizarding world. Did Adam’s notes mention the War?”

 

“Only in general terms.”

 

“Right. Quick overview, then. Voldemort originally rose to power In Britain in the late 1970s. He’s a blood purist in his rhetoric: only pure-blooded wizards and witches should live, essentially. And some Muggles can stay as wizarding slaves. Think Nazis for wizards.”

 

Lucas knew that his eyes had widened and he took a breath even as he tried to resist this impulse. And this had been going on while he had been sitting in a Russian prison? A new Hitler that only a certain population of the world would ever know about? It was all too similar to hearing about the attacks on 9/11 and not being able to do anything. “And is this war over?”

 

“Mostly. There are a few die-hard followers remaining, but most of the big players, including Voldemort himself, are gone, either dead or in the wizarding prison, Azkaban.” Harry paused, and Lucas didn’t feel the need to fill the silence while the younger man gathered his thoughts. “I’m not anticipating any spillovers into your world, but it is better if your group is prepared. I understand that your… Section - is that the right term? – is primarily concerned with counter intelligence on a domestic level. You aren’t quite James Bond, then?” Harry’s smile quirked again.

 

Lucas rolled his eyes. “Not quite. The Home Secretary isn’t quite as indulgent.” He recognized the joke as trying to get the topic away from the war; there was something that haunted Harry Potter about the experience. “Like your group, we handle issues that are expected to occur on or impact British soil. While we do go abroad, it is usually not quite as glamorous as Mister Bond.”

 

“Yes, I can’t imagine James Bond being in a Russian prison for eight years,” Potter said, almost reluctantly. Lucas frowned at him as he continued, “I told you our researchers are good.”

 

“Yes. Well.”  Lucas paused. “I try not to think about it.”

 

“You aren’t the only one, you know. For any of it. There are reasons our superiors put us both together for this liaison position.”

 

Lucas took a breath but wouldn’t take the bait. “Well, I admit I had been wondering why Harry Pearce tried to convince me I could deal better with wizards than with the Home Secretary.”

 

Potter laughed. “Oh yes, I’d much rather deal with Muggles than politicians.” Pausing in thought again, but for only a few moments, Lucas could tell by Harry’s eyes the second when he made a decision and began digging into his bag again. “I don’t like talking about it either.” He pulled a small notebook out of the bag and, like the file, slid it along the table to Lucas. “I don’t have a dossier on me, but that will give you an idea of what you’re dealing with when being with me. I should have brought a general wizarding history: a friend of mine is writing one aimed to Muggle and ‘new-to-the-wizarding-world’ populations.”

 

Eager to leave this subject entirely, Lucas said, “How long have you been in the Aurors?”

 

“This is my fourth year. After Hogwarts, the wizarding school in Scotland, I did an undergraduate degree in the Muggle world before going back to the wizarding world. Two years of training and four years as an official Auror.”

 

Lucas noticed the missing years, but wasn’t able to ask a question before their conversation was interrupted by a blonde woman bringing bowls of what looked like stew to the table. “Bless me, you two are looking very intense. Thought I’d bring you and your friend some supper, Harry.”

 

“Hannah!” At this Potter slid smoothly out of the booth and embraced the young woman, whom Lucas assumed was a witch. “You’re too kind! And looking lovely as ever.”

 

Hannah took Harry’s embrace in stride, but shook her head in indulgence. “You know I won’t let you out of here without eating, Harry. Hermione would tell me off if I did, and I’d prefer to avoid that. And your friend is too thin, too.” Lucas opened his mouth to protest, but Hannah cut him off, saying, “Can I get you something in particular to drink?”

 

Harry finally let go of her and said, “Hannah, I’ll just have whatever ale you have on tap. And my friend will have the same.” He paused for a brief moment before saying, “Hannah, this is my friend Sam. Sam, Hannah and I went to Hogwarts together.”

 

Lucas nodded in reply, said, “Very nice to meet you, Miss Hannah,” and winked at her.

 

She shook her hand at them both and said, “Alright, I’ll be back with the ale, but eat up!”

 

After she walked away, Harry said, “I’ll wait until she comes back to reapply it, but I’ve had us under a modified privacy ward while we have been speaking. Keeps all but the most earnest eavesdroppers out and I would have noticed anyone else. Apologies for giving you a silly name, but I didn’t think you’d appreciate me bandying yours about to strangers. Especially as I know that you go undercover and stuff.”

 

“My thanks.”

 

Harry waved his thanks away and proceeded to stuff his face with the stew. “It’s good.”

 

Lucas nodded. “It is.” They proceeded in silence for the next while, broken only by the arrival of the ale with Hannah and her subsequent swift departure. Both of them drank in the peace and quiet of the pub along with their ale and dinner.

 

When they finished, Lucas sat back in the booth again. “So Harry, Ros – Ms. Myers – has a great saying for spooks like us. ‘Lovers leave, friends annoy you, families mess with your head. Colleagues are okay.’ I’d like us to be colleagues.”

 

At that Lucas witnessed Harry’s first genuine smile. “I’d like that. Like I said, I’m a bit of a figurehead in the wizarding world and I hate it. I’d like to have someone who knows me as a regular person.” At that, Harry thrust his hand out across the table at Lucas. It took less than a heartbeat for Lucas to reciprocate.

 

“You have my mobile, Harry. Let me know if you need anything,” Lucas said as he began to slide out of the booth.

 

“Would you like to come through to our High Street, Diagon Alley? You need a wand to get into it, so you’ll have to be with a witch or wizard if you want to enter.”

 

Lucas turned on his heel after rising out of the booth. “I think I’d like to look through the documents you provided me, first. I appreciate the offer, though, and I’ll take you up on it later.”

 

“Lucas, just in case.” Harry began digging through his bag again. “I can always contact someone at Thames House to get you a message, but if you need to get in touch with me and can’t, here’s the mobile number of my researcher friend, Hermione.”  He handed Lucas a business card. “She doesn’t go out into the field.”

 

“Thank you. I’ll contact you soon.”

 

“Good to meet you, Lucas.”


	3. Understanding Dawns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucas reviews the dossier and learns some of Harry's secrets.

Lucas tucked the file and notebook under his arm as he left the Leaky Cauldron pub. Harry Potter was an interesting man. There was definitely something he was keeping from Lucas, but that was understandable given their recent acquaintance. He walked to the Underground to make his way to his flat. Normally Lucas hated to take the Tube, but it was easier to go straight home than to walk back to Thames House for his car.

 

Lucas figured the dossier and notebook from Potter would essentially blow his mind, and decided against anything alcoholic. He made himself some tea before depositing himself on his couch. He decided to look at the compiled dossier first, more curious about the secrets of his family than whatever Harry was hiding. He had a feeling Harry’s secrets were personal rather than related to the job.

 

For all that the wizarding world had changed or evolved from the Muggle one, it appeared that paperwork remained universal. The first few pages dealt with Lucas joining MI5, his capture in Russia, subsequent return, and the activities of the last eight months. Lucas hurriedly flipped through the pages that dealt with his imprisonment and moved to the next section.

 

Harry hadn’t lied when he said their researchers were good. A family tree provided names and dates for all of Lucas’s grandparents and great-grandparents. Father: Alan North, his parents Robert North and Arabella Watson. Robert’s parents were John North and Anne Black; Arabella’s were listed as Sidney Watson and Mary Ellis. Anne’s name had an asterisk by it. Lucas looked at the bottom of the page where the footnote stated:

 

_Anne Black was almost certainly a Squib child born into the notorious Black family. The Blacks were particularly harsh with family members that did not meet behavioral requirements for blood purists: it is not hard to imagine that they were the same regarding their Squib family members._

 

Lucas was sure his eyebrows were up in his hairline. ‘Behavioral requirements for blood purists?’ What the bloody hell did that mean? A second footnote marking two other branches indicated the researcher thought an additional two great-grandparents were also Squibs or from Squib lines that had migrated from the Wizarding World, but no other enlightening thoughts on the family were written. Hoping that Harry’s being able to meet with him earlier meant his schedule was fairly free, Lucas pulled out his mobile.

 

He paused as he began typing his message and then put the mobile back down. There was nothing else in the dossier except a summary of the events of the past eight months, but he still had Harry’s notebook to read. Maybe there would be something there about this mysterious Black family – and wasn’t that name just a tad ironic?

 

The first pages read very similarly to Lucas’s dossier. ‘Name, rank, serial number,’ essentially. The page was dated just after Harry had entered the Auror program in 2004. There was a short summary of his time before Hogwarts, and Lucas was appalled to read about the death of his parents and the treatment that Harry received from his relatives. The next section contained short summaries of every year at Hogwarts. The third year chronicled Harry’s introduction to his godfather, Sirius Black, and Lucas started to pay more attention.

 

Harry’s writing began to include commentary regarding people in his life as he got older. Lucas could read the anger and incredulity at the actions of the adults in Harry’s life. The Tri-Wizard Tournament and its aftermath covered many pages, including Harry’s return to his relatives in Surrey after having his blood used to resurrect the dark lord Voldemort – also known as Tom Riddle.

 

This was much darker than Lucas had expected to read. While his father had been emotionally distant, Lucas had never doubted that his parents loved him and would protect him from harm. Reading the word ‘resurrect’ made his insides twist. As if the thought of having a wizarding monster running around wasn’t enough, the fact that the blood of the very nice young man he had met that afternoon had been used to bring a monster back to life nearly made him gag. Of all the things that had been taken from him during his tortures, he at least knew that that which was taken from him – blood, sweat, tears, semen – couldn’t be used for nefarious purposes.

 

The next section chronicling Harry’s fifth year at Hogwarts was told succinctly, beginning with his trial at the Wizengamot for violating the ‘Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery,’ through to the events occurring at the Ministry of Magic. It included the loss of Sirius Black and the subsequent deep depression Harry fell into. It had gotten so bad that the Hogwarts headmaster, Dumbledore, had allowed Harry to stay at Hogwarts rather than going back into the Muggle world or staying with anyone else.

 

The more Lucas read, the more he realized that Harry had lots of secrets and was very angry, or had been when this missive had been penned. His sixth and seventh years at school had been limited by his depression. The volume of the activities of Voldemort during those years within the greater wizarding world had increased. However, it wasn’t until Potter wrote about leaving Hogwarts that Lucas truly understood both Potters comments and why they both had been chosen for this liaison position.

 

Harry had been captured by Voldemort’s forces and held for over two years. As he read, Lucas realized that he was reading, essentially, a debrief of his time in captivity, written before he started Auror training. Upon this realization, Lucas literally winced. No matter that Harry knew about Russia, it had taken an extreme act of trust for him to give this to Lucas. He immediately put the book down to give himself space: eight months out from Russia and Lushanka and he knew he still had a lot to process. If he read Harry’s experiences he knew that he wouldn’t sleep at all due to the nightmares.

 

Instead, he composed another text to Harry, deleting his earlier message.

_Harry, please thank your researchers for me. I didn’t know anything about my background. And thank you for passing it along. Let me know a good time to talk particulars. And for me to visit Diagon Alley. LN_


	4. Being Colleagues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucas is still learning to be part of the team.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope Lucas isn't too OOC here. Please let me know if you think so.

The next day at Thames House, Lucas had to check in with both Harry Pearce and Ros. “Initial meet went well. I’m working on setting up another to discuss specifics.” Lucas paused. “How much do you two know about this wizarding stuff?”

 

Both shook their heads. “Not much,” said Ros. “Just generalities. Why?”

 

“It makes me twitchy to think about a war on British soil that a large portion of the population is in the dark about.”

 

“Lucas, that’s our lives. Come on,” Ros replied.

 

Lucas shook his head. “It just feels weird is all. Anyways, I have a check-in with our friends at the CIA and I was going to try to see Adam at the clinic and pick his brain if possible. Going from his notes and what you have told me, it seems his asset in the Aurors didn’t give us bad intel, so I’m curious as to his current whereabouts. We didn’t get into that much detail yesterday.”

 

Harry nodded. “Sounds good, Lucas. I’d like to talk to Ros, please.”

 

Lucas hated being dismissed, but he took it in stride as he went back to his desk. He had left the dossier and Harry’s ‘debrief’ at home in his safe. He had no right to share Harry’s secrets and knew he wanted to keep his own for as long as possible. Out in the cubes, he saw Jo staring into space. It had not been very long since the incident with Bibi Saparova and he knew she was a having a difficult time. The past months were catching up to all of them really: Adam’s near death; Connie’s betrayal, murder of Ben, and subsequent death; Harry’s interrogation followed by kidnapping; a bomb going off in Jo’s face; and now Bibi’s suicide.

 

“Hey Jo?”

 

She turned to him, but seemed rattled. “Yeah, Lucas?”

 

“Care to take a trip to the roof with me? I need some air.”

 

She blinked at him, obviously confused. To be honest, he was a bit confused at himself, really. He had never really tried to be her friend. It had been easier to be colleagues with Ros, for whatever reason. “Sure, Lucas.”

 

They made their way upstairs and onto the roof in silence. When they exited the stairwell, Lucas took a deep breath and closed his eyes. While the noise of London sometimes bothered him and became overwhelming, other times it felt like the simplest, most freeing part of being out of Lushanka. Noises beyond screaming and crying, even if they were car horns and dive-bombing birds, were infinitely preferable.

 

He looked over at Jo and could tell she was uncomfortable. “I just wanted some company and thought you might also be able to use it.”

 

She stared at him, her body still taut and her mouth set in a thin line. “I don’t know what to say to that. I didn’t think you liked me much. Especially when I fucked up with Meynell.”

 

He turned away briefly. “Well, I should have said something earlier. Or after. Not quite as harsh. God knows I shouldn’t be lecturing anyone about flashbacks and triggers.”

 

Now she turned away from him. “Lucas, you’ve done spectacularly well, especially considering you were gone so long.” She paused. “I heard from Ros and Ruth that you got wizard duty due to rest of us being complete Muggles.”

 

He laughed. “Yes, I did. I don’t think I’ve come across any of those mission files yet. At first I thought Harry was playing a joke on me. I mean, magic and wizards?”

 

“Yeah, Adam was the same way. I accompanied him one time to meet his asset, but Adam didn’t talk about it much.”

 

“I haven’t been to see him in awhile,” Lucas said, “but I was planning to go today or at the latest on the weekend. Have you seen him lately?”

 

“I visited him last week. He is good for someone that suffered such severe burns. He was lucky. He’ll be glad to see you.”

 

Lucas nodded. He was quiet for a few moments, just taking in their surroundings. “Jo, I know I probably don’t have the right to say any of this, but I want you to know that I know you’ve gone through a hard time, and I know it is difficult when the person who knows all the details and understands isn’t available. I just want you to know that I’m here. I know I’m not Adam or Ben, believe me, I know.”

 

“Lucas, what’s wrong? You’re freaking me out a bit,” Jo said.

 

“I don’t mean to. I, just, meeting this wizard gave me some perspective. And then thinking about everything that has gone on since I came back….”

 

“You know not everyone tells time that way,” Jo smirked at him.

 

He grinned but knew it didn’t meet his eyes. “Yes, well, remind me of that when I hit the one year mark.”

 

She nodded. “We should probably get back.”

 

“Yes, of course. Just. Be careful, Jo.”

 

She paused. “Lucas?”

 

“I don’t know anything specific. I just have a feeling. I’ve never had anything like it so can’t elaborate.”

 

Nodding again, they made their way back down to the Grid. He could hear Malcolm and Tariq mildly arguing about something as he went into the kitchenette to make a cup of tea. Once he was back at his desk, he noticed a note from Harry to ‘discuss potential high-level security threat perhaps named ‘Nightingale’ with his wizard liaison, and to _not_ mention it to his CIA contact.’ He sighed to himself. The American CIA liaison officer, Sarah Caulfield, was blonde and pretty and in the intelligence services. He would have to be blind and dumb not to be tempted by her offers. And yet, something still held him back, for now, at least. If he were honest with himself (and he seemed to be today), he would say that he still didn’t feel whole. And if he continued to think about it, he reminded himself that it was a bad idea to get involved with a work colleague. Even _if_ those were the only people he ever seemed to see.

 

There were also texts from Sarah and Harry Potter on his mobile. Sarah’s indicated that she really had nothing to share, but that she would like to see him anyway. He could read between the lines on that one. Harry’s reply had been a simple one, giving him a time of noon with the location of the Leaky Cauldron again. Lucas responded with an affirmative, and thought back to the location. A car park was located across the street so he could take his car. He had been really shortsighted yesterday with his walking to the meet.


	5. Sharing Information

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beginning of the Magical-Muggle information sharing.

Before his lunch meet with Potter, Lucas realized he had to know more about ‘Nightingale’ than just a name. Knocking on Harry Pearce’s door he said, “Got a moment, Harry?”

 

“Just.”

 

“I’ll make it quick, then. Nightingale? If I’m going to ask Potter about it, I need a little more intel.”

 

“I don’t have much. It came from the Home Secretary. A plot to challenge the world order as we know it, according to an American CIA contact.”

 

“Hence not talking to Sarah Caulfield.”

 

“Indeed. The informant also apparently said there are divisions in their intelligence services and that there was a high-level meeting in Switzerland,” said Harry.

 

“Okay. That’s at least something to start with.” Lucas started to get up.

 

“Lucas. Everything alright?”

 

Lucas looked at Harry skeptically, one hand on the back of the chair. “Yes. Should they not be?”

 

“Just checking on you. No ulterior motive, I swear.”

 

Lucas made a slight _harrumph_ noise under his breath. “No Harry, everything is just fine.”

 

Harry nodded and Lucas continued his way back out to his desk. “Ros?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I’m going to be on wizard duty at lunch, but let me know if something comes up?”

 

“Sure Lucas.” She paused. “Everything alright?”

 

“Not you, too.” Ros looked at him pointedly. “Harry was just checking up on me. I’m fine. Everything is good, really. Though I’m a bit twigged as to why all of the sudden everyone is so concerned.”

 

Ros held her hands up in front of her. “So sorry I said anything. Enjoy the wizard.”

 

Lucas rolled his eyes at her. He hurriedly tapped a negative reply to Sarah, saying if there was no pressing work business he had to decline as he entered the parking garage.

 

It was a quick trip to the pub from Thames House and Lucas beat Potter there. Going in, he went to the bar and asked for a water and a sandwich before grabbing a quiet booth. He only had a few minutes to wait before Harry entered from the rear of the pub rather than the front door. He, too, grabbed a water and lunch at the bar before coming over to Lucas.

 

“Lucas. I didn’t expect to be seeing you so soon.”

 

“Yes, well, I got a request from my boss about an urgent issue and I had some questions I wanted to ask myself.”

 

“Well obviously you read through the dossier. Did you get any further?” Harry asked, though his eyes darted away from Lucas’s face.

 

“Yeah, I did. I didn’t finish, though. I only got to the end of your Hogwarts years. Any further, and, well, to be honest I was concerned about nightmares and I try to keep them at a minimum if possible.” Harry nodded. “I did want to ask, if it isn’t too difficult a question, if you were related to your godfather at all? My family tree shows a Black family member.”

 

Harry’s gaze swung back to Lucas as he said, “Really? I confess I didn’t look at your tree, but yes, I’m distantly related to the Blacks as well. So, hi, cousin.” He laughed. “Remind me to tell you all the gory secrets of that family, later. Over _lots_ of booze at my flat where neither of us have to go anywhere afterwards.”

 

“Sounds good. That was _my_ major question, but alas, work and intelligence gathering takes precedence. Can you do that privacy ward thing? And if you’ve got anything stronger, that might be good.”

 

Harry’s eyes widened a fraction. “Sure, Lucas.” He pulled out his wand, but cast silently. “My privacy spells are stronger with my wand than without it. Otherwise, I usually cast wandless.”

 

“I have a feeling that means you are pretty strong, magically,” Lucas said.

 

Harry’s eyes looked down at the table. “Yeah, it’s something only really powerful wizards and witches can do.” He paused. “Anyways. Other questions?

 

“Yeah,” Lucas said. “So, the home Secretary came to Harry Pearce with some intel from an American intelligence asset about plans for a ‘new world order,’ whatever that means, plus a secret meeting in Switzerland recently. It’s possible that this is or will have spillover into both worlds. Have your people heard anything about this on your end?”

 

“Not lately. I mean, that’s fairly close to the rhetoric of Voldemort’s people so we’ve been hearing that sort of stuff for years. The wizarding government in Switzerland is just like the Muggle one: give us money and you can do what you want.” Harry paused, tapping his fingers on the table. “Do you have candidates for a potential ‘demonstration’ for this new world order?”

 

“None at the moment,” Lucas said. “I mean, there are too many potentials – just looking at the nuclear potential alone makes me concerned, when you put all the players together. I _think_ we can assume its not our normal terrorist groups though – Al Qaeda and the like. I say only that I _think_ that, though. Another focus could change the players entirely. If this is supposed to be a global conspiracy, I am only assuming that a majority of the group wouldn’t want to work with them. Is it possible a group of wizarding terrorists would work with Muggle groups?”

 

“It hasn’t happened before, but there is no reason why it couldn’t. Who knows what type of agreement can be put in place, particularly for the right price? There’s plenty of money in the wizarding world. Though if history repeats itself, at least the beings that run the bank – Gringotts – won’t join. Unless, of course, goblins are behind it, but I can see that either.”

 

Lucas raised his eyebrows. “Goblins run the wizarding world’s banks?”

 

Harry nodded. “Yup. Oh, here. He pulled a small book out of his bag and handed it to Lucas. “That wizarding history I mentioned. I had my friend make you a copy.”

 

“Your researcher friend Hermione?”

 

“Yeah,” Harry said. “I know you want this kept quiet, but I’m going to need some help digging on my end. She can keep her mouth shut, though. Well, at least about important things.” He smiled. “She’s the brightest witch of our generation.”

 

Lucas was quiet at that, thinking to himself that he would love to see Ruth and Hermione in a room to do research together. If it was discovered that there _was_ a wizarding element to the conspiracy, that would probably happen sooner rather than later. They would either consider each other kindred spirits and be best friends, or they would hate each other on first sight. “That’s okay, I think. Normally I would say no, but I’m assuming you have a way to ensure only the two of you discuss it?”

 

Harry nodded. “What else do you know?”

 

“That is essentially all of it. The information came from someone in the American intelligence community, but the Home Secretary didn’t say who, just that they were high up in the chain. I’ve been ordered not to discuss it with my CIA liaison, just in case.” Lucas paused. “Apparently, the intel came from a CIA contact. Harry and I just don’t know who. It could be Sarah – she’s the liaison – for all I know, but I doubt she’s high enough in the organization.”

 

Harry made a soft _hmmm_ noise. “It would be better if Hermione and I did some research first, but I think I want to meet her. The CIA liaison.”

 

Lucas was a bit taken aback. “Really?”

 

“Can you figure out some sort of pretense for me? I might be able to suss out some details if I talk to her and if she’s involved.”

 

Lucas nodded. “I’m sure between Ruth and I we can figure something out on that end.”

 

“If you can think of something for a couple, I’ll bring Hermione along and you can meet her, too. I think you’ll like her and she thinks quickly on her feet.”

 

Lucas closed his eyes. It was turning into a conspiracy to uncover a conspiracy. “Okay. Is a week too long to wait? I want to give Ruth some time to research too.”

 

“A week is good. We will compare notes and then find a time to meet with the CIA. How exciting. I’m not sure I’ve met the American wizarding liaison. I don’t even know if we let them in country. “ Harry winked. “British wizardry, while it’s getting better, is terribly isolationist.”

 

“Do your people have a liaison over at MI6? Once we get more information, that contact might be required as well.”

 

“I’ll make up a list of all our British government contacts for our next meeting. Really, that is something we should already have somewhere.”

 

“Also, do you know the man who previously did your job? I was looking at the old files and it looks like all the intel was good. Did he get the sack in your housekeeping?”

 

Harry laughed. “He sure didn’t. Kingsley Shacklebolt is the new head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, equivalent to your Home Secretary.”

 

“Oh.”  Lucas was quiet then. “Well, alright then. Good to know.”

 

Harry smiled. “Kingsley is awesome. Seriously, he’s going to be next Minister of Magic.” He paused. “Not that Bones is leaving any time soon. And she’s been exactly what the wizarding world needed in a post-war rebuilding minister.”

 

“Well, I think that takes care of all my questions. Anything from your end?”

 

“Just some non-work ones that I think can wait.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

Harry nodded. “Yes. Let’s plan on same time and place next week. I’ll text if something changes.”

 

“Likewise,” said Lucas.


	6. An Unwelcome Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More of Lucas's past is revealed, and a current terrorism action is about to occur in London.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, the next few chapters feature little to no Harry Potter, and are a rewrite/reworking of that great Lucas episode, 8.4.
> 
> Enjoy.

It wasn’t but two days later that Lucas woke screaming from a nightmare featuring Oleg Darshavin, his FSB interrogator and torturer. He had been avoiding reading Potter’s debrief for this very reason. It got no better when he walked onto the Grid. A bouquet of flowers – tulips – was on his desk, along with a card.

 

“Someone trying to woo you, Lucas?” Ros asked.

 

“Lucas,” Harry called him to a monitor near Tariq and Ros before Lucas could lok at the card that had accompanied the flowers, though it remained in his hand. “There was an incident overnight at the Clarksdale Immigration Centre. A riot broke out and one person escaped.”

 

“Just one?” Lucas asked, internally wondering what the ruckus could be about.

 

“Just one,” said Harry. He moved closer to the computer screen and indicated for Tariq to start the video. “We don’t have an ID on him yet, though he had a Hungarian passport missing his visa, obviously false.”

 

Lucas watched in growing horror as the video played. He took his eyes away to open the card and grimaced at the word there.

 

“He’s saying something to the camera,” said Ros. “It looks like a name.”

 

“It is.” At Lucas’s statement, the three turned to look at him.

 

“Whose name, Lucas?” Harry asked.

 

Lucas closed his eyes. “Mine.” He could hear Harry murmur to Tariq to leave them alone, even as they stood in the middle of the Grid.

 

“Who is he, Lucas?” he heard Ros ask.

 

He took a step back before opening his eyes. Lucas subconsciously wrapped his arms around his torso as he gave a sigh. He put the card from the flowers on the desk, and said. “ _Grebe_.”

 

“Lucas?” Harry questioned.

 

“His name is Oleg Darshavin.” He paused. “Russian military officer, decorated for bravery in Afghanistan. His reward was to be given the role of FSB chief interrogator at the Lushanka interrogation camp, 2005 to the present day.” Even as he spoke Lucas could feel the memories of Darshavin’s interrogations coming to the forefront of his mind. He even imagined he could feel the rush of cold water over his face and the electricity coursing through his body. Lucas sat on the surface of one of the desks, looking at Ros, but not at Harry.

 

“Tasked with interrogating you,” said Harry.

 

Before Lucas could reply, Ros asked, “So what’s he doing here?”

 

“He wants to see me. That’s what _Grebe_ means. It’s a bird.” They both at him looked confused. “Lushanka was surrounded by marshland. He used to take me on walks between sessions. I told him about visiting the Thames Estuary with my father and he joked that we would go birdwatching together.” Even as he said it, Lucas realized how terrible those words sounded. As if he had been a puppy on a leash. As he spoke further, he could see Harry and Ros share looks.

 

“I am not delivering you into an FSB trap,” said Harry.

 

“If Oleg Darshavin has come to the UK without FSB approval….”

 

At his words Ros and Harry looked at each other again even as Harry said, “We don’t know that.”

 

Lucas realized that he had called Darshavin by his full name. “But if he has,” said Lucas.

 

“Harry, if Darshavin is the chief interrogator, he would have interrogated Russian dissidents, Chechen terrorists, Al Qaeda suspects…. He’ll report directly to the FSB inner circle in Moscow,” said Ros. “He’d be our most valuable intelligence catch in 20 years.”

 

Harry was quiet for only a moment. “Go together.”

 

Lucas immediately grabbed his coat and headed to the garage. He needed some moments to get himself under control and to gird himself for the coming confrontation.

 

As they drove to the Thames estuary, Lucas said, “He won’t meet me if you’re there.”

 

“I know,” Ros replied. “Tell him you lost me.”

 

Lucas nodded, grateful for the trust Ros had in him.

 

When they arrived, Lucas left Ros with the car as he began his long walk along the estuary. The sights of the ships and the birds and the marsh would forever remind him more of Darshavin and Lushanka than it ever could of his father and his childhood.

 

The closer he got to the water tower the more he could feel his heart race and his breathing quicken, no matter how hard he worked to keep them both in check. As he walked in, the mobile sitting on a wooden box rang, indicating Darshavin was watching. He still got off on watching.

 

When Lucas answered the mobile, the voice was as familiar as any in his memory. “Undress and put on the boiler suit.”

 

He didn’t end the call, but it took a few moments to convince himself to put down the mobile and follow Darshavin’s instructions. He could tell his mind and body wanted to, still afraid of the potential pain of not following an order. But his heart wanted to tell Darshavin to fuck off and screw his intel and the FSB. And yet, he reminded himself, just as he had said to Jo, that it hadn’t even been a year yet away from Lushanka, and he had been alone with Darshavin (or his own thoughts) for the four years before that. No wonder his body wanted to obey.

 

He recognized the order for what it was – Darshavin’s continued control over him, to prove that he could make Lucas do what he wanted. Also a way to check for a wire. Good thing Lucas wasn’t wearing one. At least Ros trusted him that much.

 

He quickly shucked off his coat and unbuttoned the shirt he was wearing. The fabric slid easily over his arms, revealing all of his ink. He unbuckled his belt, but didn’t take it off. The jeans were next, falling down from his hips with his belt to puddle around his feet. He hesitated again at the underwear, then pushed them down as well. He stepped out of the layers of clothes to put on the suit, hating that he had to do this to get the intelligence they wanted.

 

When he finished zipping up the front of the suit, he picked the mobile back up. Hoarsely, he asked, “Now what?”

 

“Now we talk.” The voice on the mobile clashed with the one behind him. Lucas pulled the mobile away from his ear and could feel his hand shake, hesitating a few moments before he turned to face Darshavin.

 

Darshavin stood in the entranceway, smiling. Lucas felt as if he had been punched in his chest, even as he regulated his breathing to appear still in control. Darshavin didn’t look very different from his time in Lushanka: perhaps a bit more rounded in the face. But the hair was still slicked back and the dark eyes still as piercing. “I came alone,” said Lucas.

 

“So this is Dicken’s country,” Darshavin said, as he looked out at the estuary. “It reminds me of my home.”

 

Lucas took a breath and let it out through his teeth. “We don’t have long before they come to find me,” he said, taking his direct gaze away from Darshavin.

 

Darshavin went on to explain the potential for an attack on Britain. As he spoke, the voice threw Lucas back into some of those memories from Lushanka. “A major attack on British soil, already in the final stages of preparation. A team of five operatives, all Sudanese-born but living in Britain, and recruited one year ago through a Muslim charity in North London.”

 

“What’s the target?” Lucas asked.

 

Darshavin smirked and explained he had relayed the information to Moscow and waited. And then the prisoner was gone. “And you and I both know, no one escapes from Lushanka.”

 

Lucas could swear that Darshavin wanted to wink at him. Reminding Lucas of his one, and only, escape attempt and its aftermath. Where he had thought he was going to go was still unclear even now, but at the time he had been desperate. “What’s the target?” he repeated. It was even more choked this time, as Lucas’s tongue felt clumsy in his mouth. He wanted to be sick.

 

“Here’s the deal: we meet in central London. You bring me a UK passport with my photograph and a false name. You bring me a million dollars in mixed currencies, all used notes. And I tell you the target.”

 

Lucas shook his head. “We don’t do deals.”

 

“Then you have to find the target on your own,” Darshavin said, beginning to walk out of the tower.

 

Lucas was barely able to croak out, “Where do I go?”

 

“White Cube Gallery. One o’clock. Come alone, Mr. Gray, no tail. Show me respect.”

 

As Darshavin left the water tower, Lucas sat down on the box that had held the boiler suit and mobile phone. Taking some deep breaths, he forced his heartbeat to calm. He had known seeing Darshavin would fuck him up. He put his head in his hands for a few moments longer before reaching for his clothes. In a way, he was glad Darshavin had forced him into the boiler suit: he wanted to burn it. He wanted to scrub his skin clean of the stink of having Darshavin near him. If only he could burn the memories the sight of Darshavin had dredged from his mind.

 

On the way back to Thames House Lucas outlined the steps and information given to him by Darshavin to Ros.

 

“A major attack in London? Lovely,” said Ros.

 

“You have my phone? I need to send Potter a text that we are having a major issue and may not be prepped for a meet. We’re going to need everyone in on this one.”

 

Ros’s voice was low as she said, “Lucas? You alright?”

 

“Can I be honest with you and you won’t share a worried look with Harry when we get back to the Grid?”

 

Taking her eyes off the road for a moment, she looked over at Lucas. “If that’s what you need me to do.”

 

“Darshavin is a sadist. I hate having to deal with him and yeah, his presence brings up memories that I would prefer to remain buried in my mind. I know it is not a good thing for me to not be over, but I am still trying to put myself back together.”

 

“Why didn’t you take the time after you debriefed?”

 

“I couldn’t take the idea of so much solitude. I told you, four years in solitary. The only people I saw were Darshavin and Katchimov. Katchimov came rarely, so it was usually Darshavin. He has all the subtlety of a brick.” At this Lucas turned his body away from her as much as possible in the car and stared out the window, but he could still feel his hand shake.

 

“We’ve only got a few hours until the meet. Can you handle it until then?” Ros asked.

 

“Of course.”

 

She silently passed Lucas his mobile. He tapped out a message to Potter, but paused near the end, wondering if he should mention anything about Darshavin. He settled by ending his message by typing, _My past from Russia has come to Britain. I hesitate to think he is doing this just to fuck with my head_.

 

Ros’s voice interrupted his typing. “As colleagues, you should probably know that I was kidnapped and tortured two years ago by a group called Yalta. Jo and Adam were taken a little over a year ago by the Redbacks. We all understand, Lucas. At least a little bit of it. None of us can imagine eight years of it, though.”

 

Lucas closed his eyes. “Ros. Can we not do this now? When the issue with Oleg-” he winced as he showed that vulnerability again- “is resolved, then we can all go out or go to my flat and get seriously pissed. But really, now is not a good time.”

 

She nodded, saying, “Okay, Lucas.”


	7. Private Space

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darshavin is difficult, Lucas goes off coms and pulls a stupid stunt, Sarah Caulfield is suspicious and trying to get in Lucas's pants.

Back at Thames House the mood was no better. After learning about who Darshavin was to him, Jo and Ruth wanted to hover over him while trying to work at the same time. Harry wanted to doubt that any of the information given by Darshavin could potentially be useful. Tariq was just quiet, and Malcolm was off the Grid for the day.

 

Ros ended up taking charge and giving orders, and Lucas was glad of it. It hurt that Harry still didn’t trust his judgment, even if (perhaps especially if) it had to deal with Darshavin. While Ros was giving the research parameters to Ruth, Lucas’s mobile rang and he blindly answered it.

 

“Lucas North. You’ve been avoiding me.”

 

“Sarah Caulfield,” he said. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Ros shake her head. “ _Not_ avoiding you, by the way. Just busy. Actually, I have an asset I want you to meet next week. We are just in the middle of some stupid Human Resources training, you know how it is. Someone did something stupid and ruins it for all of us.”

 

“What, no more Facebook at the office? Too many butt dials to the Home Secretary?” Her humor sounded forced.

 

“Something like that. Can I text you about meeting my asset next week? Looks like we are going to be holed up here for awhile.”

 

“Sure, Lucas. Later.”

 

“Thanks for the call, Sarah.” He pushed the red button to end the call and repressed a shiver. She wanted something beyond sex. Information. She was pushing too hard. Combine that with Darshavin and Lucas felt more like prey than he was comfortable with at that moment.

 

“Lucas?” Jo’s soft voice interrupted his thoughts. “Are you okay? I know this must have been difficult….”

 

He turned from his desk to face her. “And soon to become more so, Jo. I’m fine. I already told Ros that after this we are all going to go out or to my flat to get pissed.”

 

She smiled and nodded. “Okay, Lucas. Just…. Let me know, ok?”

 

He nodded back at her. And then it seemed that even though Ros had taken control of the operation people continued to be at him, asking questions. Tariq appeared with a passport embedded with a tracker and Lucas immediately vetoed it. “No, Tariq. He will know.”

 

“Lucas, he won’t know.”

 

“Tariq.” He made his voice firm and no nonsense. “Take it out.”

 

Tariq took the passport back and took out the tracker. Then he handed Lucas a wire and earpiece.

 

“Ready?” asked Ros.

 

“The money?”

 

“No money until we know the target,” said Ros. “You know how this works, Lucas.”

 

Lucas nodded. “Just making sure.

 

* * *

Well, dealing with Darshavin at the White Cube Gallery and then through London had been a right cock-up. Lucas decided to take Darshavin to his flat, even though he knew it was a bad idea. There was nowhere else where Lucas could control the situation enough, and he didn’t dare take Darshavin to an MI5 safe house.

 

The meet was going as well as could be expected at that point. “We’ve confirmed the FSB are involved in the Sudanese operation,” said Lucas as he sat on a stool as far away from Darshavin’s location at the entry of the flat as possible.

 

“Fast work,” Darshavin replied. Lucas held up the passport. “Thank you. That must have been hard to get.”

 

Lucas didn’t hand it over, though. “What’s the target?”

 

“Where’s the money?” Lucas shook his head. “Of course.”

 

“You give me the target, then you get your money.”

 

“I give you the target, you can let me hang,” said Darshavin.

 

“I won’t do that.” Lucas’s voice was low and soft as he replied, looking away and down from DArshavin’s face. He hated Darshavin being in his flat, hated that Darshavin had intelligence they needed, and hated that _he_ , Lucas, was having to deal with him.

 

“Just a reminder, Lucas: I supervised your interrogation for four years.”

 

As if Lucas could forget. “You tortured me.” Even as he fought them, the memories of Lushanka rose to the surface of his mind. Lucas struggled mentally to push them back down. Remembering them now was useless. He dug his fingernails into the palm of his hand. He kept them short enough, but the small pinpricks of pain were hopefully grounding him.

 

“Are you playing a game with me?” Darshavin asked.

 

“Are you?” Lucas replied. “You have to trust me.” He slid the passport to Darshavin. “I’ll get you the money. I will get you a whole new life. But I need information on the Sudanese terrorists and I need the target.”

 

Lucas watched as Darshavin fingered the passport. They were both startled to hear the lock in the door turning. They boht stood, and Darshavin moved behind the entry, waiting expectantly.

 

It wasn’t until Oleg had reached into the entryway and Lucas heard a gasp that he realized the intruder’s identity. ‘Fuck. Sarah Caulfield. Can’t get a break. What the bloody _hell_ was she doing here?’

 

“Who is she?” Darshavin growled.

 

‘Okay, Lucas, time to play the long game.’ “She’s just my girlfriend. Oleg!”

 

“What is she doing here?” Darshavin released Caulfield and made his way to the entry.

 

“I don’t know! I told her I was away. Oleg, wait!” He could hear Sarah’s gasping breaths, but his gaze was transfixed on Darshavin, trying to do anything to get this intelligence.

 

Then Sarah started to speak, and Lucas hoped that the CIA training included _lots_ of training on how to lie, because Darshavin _was_ good at his job. She began stuttering, “I, I, I didn’t…believe he was going. I thought he was having an affair. So, I just came to check, I’m sorry.”

 

She was good, Lucas could at least admit that.

 

“Do you know,” Darshavin’s voice was between a growl and a croon” – _fuck_ , Lucas knew that tone too well – “what job he does?”

 

“Yes, of course. He’s Police, Special Branch,” she replied breathlessly.

 

“So why don’t you believe he goes away?”

 

‘Shit,’ Lucas thought, ‘he’s not falling for it.’ He kept his gaze on Caulfield and watched Darshavin out of the corner of his eye. He could not let Darshavin see any lie in his face.

 

“I’m sorry, we’re still quite new at this.” She paused, and then said, “Can you please just let me go?”

 

Lucas jumped in. “This is all my fault….”

 

“ _What_ job does she do?” Darshavin growled.

 

He wasn’t falling for it. “She’s a lawyer.”

 

“Prove it.”

 

Fuck. Hopefully she had some sort of backup system in place for this. He didn’t even remember how or when she had told him that lawyer was one of her covers, or that Police, Special Branch, was his.

 

She reached into her bag and began pulling out various items, eventually finding a card. “Here, call that number.”

 

They both watched as he did so. Though unable to hear the other side of the conversation, it seemed like he was placated.

 

“I’ll get rid of her,” Lucas said. “We can continue with this. No one need know she was here. Oleg, she’s just my girlfriend! You know me better than this.”

 

Now Darshavin scoffed and moved closer to the door. “It’s a big mistake, Lucas, to play games with me.” The crooning tone was back and Lucas could feel Darshavin’s hot breath at his ear. “Remember that I know every inch of your mind.”

 

Oh yes, Lucas remembered. He couldn’t forget. He pushed the memories down a third time. There would be time to freak out later. “If you go now, MI5 will think you’re playing me. They already suspect it. You _have_ to give me something.”

 

Darshavin paused and looked at Sarah before turning back to Lucas. “The prisoner I interrogated, his operational name was Omar Salim al Halaad.” He made his way to go.

 

“How will I find you?”

 

“I will find you,” Darshavin said. And then he was gone.

 

“What the _fuck_ , Caulfield? What are you doing in my flat?”

 

“You lied to me.”

 

“No, you do not get to be indignant about that. My questions first. Take off your shirt and empty your bag.”

 

“Lucas, what…?”

 

“Do it, Caulfield! I know you were here to bug my flat. There’s no other reason for you to be here. And you had to pick the lock, thank you for that. Strip.”

 

She moved to empty the bag first, but he put his hands out and pointed at her shirt. She sighed before unbuttoning it, though she tried to show off her chest at him, though he noticed her scowl every time he called her ‘Caulfield’ rather than Sarah. “See, nothing.”

 

“The bag.”

 

That took a little more cajoling, but she emptied the bag. Lucas then went through it himself and found two listening devices. Lucas destroyed them by dropping both in a glass of water. “Lucas, I….”

 

“No, still my turn to talk. What did you hope to gain with this? If I wasn’t going to sleep with you before (and I wasn’t), I certainly wouldn’t now,” Lucas said. “This was _really_ important and you fucked it up.”

 

“Screw you, Lucas.” She made to leave. “Your holier-than-thou act doesn’t work with me. This,” she gestured to the bugs, “has nothing to do with me waiting to sleep with you. The CIA thinks you’re a double agent.”

 

Lucas nearly laughed. “Seriously? After eight years a ‘guest’ of the FSB, whatever could possibly make me turn spy for them?” He paused and repressed a shiver. “No, your people are wrong. Definitely barking up the wrong tree. They might want to look in their own backyard first.” ‘Careful,’ Lucas thought to himself. ‘Don’t give the game away.’

 

“Tell your bosses that I’m doing my job and you’re doing yours. I’m not a double agent, and tell them that I’m too busy to be a traitor right now. And I’m still not going to sleep with you.”

 

“Fuck you, Lucas.”

 

This time, he let her leave. What a cock-up. And now he’d have to go back to the Grid and tell Harry the outcome. Not only would he be pissed at Lucas not getting the information on the target, but in addition, this whole thing with Caulfield was getting out of hand. Perhaps he wasn’t as good a liaison as he thought. He sat back on the stool, but turned away from the entryway.


	8. Flashbacks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucas has flashbacks and the aftermath of Darshavin.

As he worked to settle himself in his flat, Lucas turned  his mobile back on. As soon as he did that, he knew MI5 would know his location and about this epic cock-up of a situation. As soon as the device turned on he saw a text from Potter, a reply to the one Lucas had sent earlier.

 

It was simple but straightforward: _All of this is unfortunate, but the last particularly so. Keep me up to date. When you get a chance, I have a great bottle of firewhiskey. Does exactly what it says on the tin._

 

Lucas did let out a small chuff of laughter at that. Most of his mind was still in a maelstrom of memories brought back up by being so near to Darshavin. He tried to take some deep breaths, but his stomach started to roil. Instead he ended up bent over the sink in the kitchen, retching, occasionally bringing up bile, and shaking.

 

His next order of business was to check in with Ros. And would that be ugly. “Ros.”

 

“You went off coms, where are you?”

 

He could hear the anger and steel in her voice and knew she was livid. “Yeah, sorry about that.”

 

“Lucas, you told me you were in control of this. At least tell me you go the target.”

 

He took in a shaky breath. “Listen, the prisoner that Darshavin interrogated in Lushanka is using the name Omar Salim Al Halaad.”

 

“Lucas….”

 

He hung up on her. Oh, he would get _hell_ for that later. He turned the phone off again and went back to the sink. Using his hands to scoop up the water he rinsed his mouth and poured the cool liquid over his face. He took a few large gulps as well.

 

Running his wet hands down his face and still breathing shakily, he wanted to sit down again, but couldn’t. Just a quick glance at an actual chair and he was back in his cell at Lushanka. A particular day, even. It had been during weeks of extended mental and physical torture. It was always Darshavin and only Darshavin. Oleg was worse than 17 days of Sugarhorse interrogation where waterboarding was the primary entertainment.

 

Darshavin, though no less cruel, was far more creative. He excelled at the mental torture: making Lucas believe he was _never_ leaving Lushanka, belong to Darshavin forever, and that Lucas was forgotten by both his own people and the FSB. That Lucas was no longer a person but an irritant: too long out of the spy game to provide any useful intelligence, soon his purposes would be as a good tool to keep Darshavin’s torture skills honed and as a good fuck.

 

Lucas hadn’t been surprised when Darshavin turned to sexual torture. He recognized that in this context it wasn’t about sex, only power, but that didn’t help when he was made to participate and to enjoy his own rape, at least bodily. There had been previous episodes with Oleg and electricity where his genitals had not been spared. At the previous prison camp rape had always been a potential occurrence. But this episode had been different.

 

As had the aftermath. After his return to the cold cell, bleeding and feeling so empty, at the time his mind had made, to him, a logical jump. He had pulled the worn sheet off the cot and tied a noose so he could hang himself and earn that final escape.

 

It hadn’t worked. It had been the worst possible moment when he let go of the sheet but hadn’t had quite the energy needed to kick the chair out from under himself. He gasped in shock when he heard the key in the lock. Then Darshavin’s arms were around his torso, lifting him out of his makeshift noose and sentencing him to live. With the pain and that emptiness.

 

The thoughts made his stomach churn again, but Lucas pushed down his memories and the anger. He wanted Darshavin to just tell him the target so he would go away. Lucas told himself he was beyond that and Darshavin couldn’t hurt him any more.

 

* * *

“You took a man who tortured you into your private space. Do you know what a psychologist would say about that?” asked Harry.

 

“No, but I’m sure it would be in Latin,” quipped Lucas. He _hated_ being lectured, and that Harry didn’t understand hurt as well.

 

“They would say you have a form of Stockholm Syndrome, that even though released you are still in love with your captor.”

 

“And they would be wrong, Harry,” said Lucas. “I’m not in love with Oleg Darshavin. But we won’t get the information if we don’t play his game.”

 

“Oh really?” Harry paused. “No more. We are doing this by the book. Darshavin obviously no longer trusts you, otherwise he would have given you the target.”

 

“Why didn’t we give him the money? Trust goes both ways, Harry,” and they both knew Lucas wasn’t talking about Oleg Darshavin.

 

Lucas’s mobile beeped and he strode out of Harry’s office, even as he could tell Harry wanted to say more. His mobile indicated he had a video message. He swept past Ros on the Grid and Jo who was coming off the elevator. She started speaking to Ros about her visit to the Sudanese operator but he ignored it as he waited for the elevator door to close. Part of him wanted to scream at them all that they didn’t understand.

 

He made it outside and took in a deep breath. His anger level was high and he knew he needed to calm down. That wasn’t to be. He looked at the message and saw Darshavin with Sarah Caulfield. “Shit.”

 

His mobile rang, and when he answered it he heard Darshavin’s voice. “Hello Lucas.”

 

“Where is she?” Lucas asked.

 

“She called CIA headquarters, made a report on you.”

 

“What have you done with her?” Lucas asked.

 

“She’s tied up, alone, with me.”

 

Lucas covered his mouth with his hands to suppress any noise and paced on the street outside Thames House. No matter that he didn’t like Caulfield, the CIA, or her methods, he couldn’t leave her alone with Darshavin.

 

“Remember how that feels, Lucas?”

 

Oh yes, he remembered. “Let me talk to her.” Lucas waited a few moments and then said, “Caulfield?” When no answer came, he asked, “Sarah, are you okay?”

 

Lucas heard her small, breathy voice say, “Yeah.”

 

“I’m going to get you out of there.”

 

“Could you hurry up?” she quipped.

 

“Can you tell me where you are?” Lucas asked.

 

“That’s enough,” said Darshavin, interrupting Lucas’s question.

 

“If you hurt her, I will kill you,” said Lucas. The anger wasn’t for Caulfield, though, but more for himself.

 

“I trusted you,” Darshavin yelled over the mobile.

 

Lucas spoke slowly, “I will get you your money, but I need the target.”

 

“What you need is no longer important to me.”

 

Lucas heard the line go dead. “Fuck.” He leaned against the brick wall of Thames House and considered his options. He called his boss before going back up to the Grid.

 

“Lucas, where the hell are you?”

 

“Harry, Darshavin’s got Sarah Caulfield as a hostage.”

 

“The CIA liaison? Can I assume there’s something you’re not telling me?” Harry asked.

 

“He think’s she’s my girlfriend, but she’s not. I’ve lost control of him and I don’t know what to do.” On those words Lucas’s voice cracked and his hand moved to his mouth again.

 

“Get in here now, Lucas. We are taking the direct route with this.”

 

* * *

As he walked into the Grid, Lucas saw Harry, Ros, and Jo in a huddle before they all made their way to the conference room. “Lucas,” said Harry, indicating for him to follow.

 

After they had all sat at the table, Harry asked, “Jo?” Ros put a recorder down on the table.

 

“Omar Salim Al Halaad is dead. He was shot in his room at the Bethnal Green squat. He got a phone call just before that.” At that, Ros pressed play.

 

“ _The plan’s been changed. There’s a new directive. Go to the window.”_ And then the sound of the gunshot.

 

Ruth knocked on the door. “The FSB contact, Boris Gulyanov, is here.”

 

Harry nodded.

 

“You can’t just drag me in here for an interrogation and not expect consequences!” Gulyanov yelled as he entered the room.

 

“Sit down and be calm, Boris, and spare me the righteous indignation,” said Harry. “Sit.”

 

Gulyanov did so and Ros played the recording again. “A Sudanese terror cell, trained by Al Qaeda and sponsored by the FSB.”

 

“That is not true!”

 

“Yes, it is,” said Ros. “That is an FSB satellite phone, a Russian voice.”

 

“It has nothing to do with us.”

 

“Why did you show me a photograph of Oleg Darshavin?” Jo asked.

 

“You know who he is?” Gulyanov was not pleased that he had been lied to.

 

Lucas knew that MI5 had spoken to Gulyanov, but had had no details.

 

“Darshavin was almost killed by FSB operatives because he’d interrogated a Sudanese terrorist inside Lushanka,” said Ros.

 

“A terrorist you then released,” added Harry.

 

Gulyanov was indignant. “Not true!”

 

“Yes, true,” said Ros.

 

“Maybe not,” said Lucas. The voice on the recording had sounded familiar. “Play that again?”

 

Ros did so. “That’s Oleg Darshavin,” said Lucas. He shook his head. “You were right, Harry. He played us this whole time. Darshavin did interrogate the Sudanese prisoner. He did discover a terror attack on British soil. But he didn’t tell his superiors. He saw a way out. So, he helped the prisoner escape, killed his fellow interrogator, faked his own death and made his way here, to me.”

 

“Why you?” asked Harry.

 

Oh, Lucas wasn’t going to touch that question with a ten-foot pole. “Because I have access to money. Money that would set him free from his past and because he thinks he knows me and trusts me.”

 

“And he doesn’t now?” Ros asked.

 

Lucas sighed. “I don’t know. But he’s continuing with the operation.”

 

“Okay. Lucas, you go to where you met him before at the estuary. Ros, you and Jo go to the general area where we think the target is located. Ruth and Tariq will continue working here, but Lucas, we need the specific target.”

 

Lucas nodded.

 

“And me?”

 

“Boris. What about you?” asked Harry.

 

“We want Darshavin.”


	9. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aftermath of Lucas's meeting with Darshavin. I swear, Harry Potter will be back soon.

Lucas went back to the Thames estuary. He found Darshavin had gone back to their first meeting location. Lucas wasn’t surprised when he was greeted by a gun held by Oleg.

 

“I’ve got the money.”

 

“Where is it?” Darshavin asked.

 

“In the car,” said Lucas.

 

“Don’t be stupid, Lucas.”

 

“If I give you the money, you’ll kill her and leave without giving me the information I need.”

 

“You don’t give me the money, I kill her, and thousands of other people.”

 

Putting himself closer to Darshavin, Lucas said, “Trust me.”

 

Lucas’s mobile began to ring and he saw that it was Jo. He heard the click of the gun being cocked as he lifted it to his ear and answered. “Jo?”

 

“Lucas. I’m at Northfield Insurance Building. That’s the target. I’ve located a multiple thermo device. There’s no time to evacuate. There’s a deactivation code. You have to get the code from Darshavin.”

 

“No heroics, Jo. I’m putting you on speaker.” To Darshavin he said, “I need the code.”

 

Darshavin only frowned harder and kept the gun up.

 

“Three thousand people, Oleg.”

 

“Give me the money,” Darshavin said.

 

“It’s in the car, I told you,” said Lucas.

 

“You owe me, Lucas!”

 

Lucas’s anger bubbled over. “I owe you _nothing_!”

 

Jo’s voice broke in, saying, “60 seconds, Lucas.”

 

“Four years you kept me in solitary. Four years of torture!”

 

“That was not my decision.”

 

“Days of beatings. Then weeks alone so I’d crave the beatings just to know that someone was there.”

 

“I was _always_ there for you!” Darshavin said.

 

“Making sure that you were the only one I could talk to. Pushing me to break, so _you_ could be the one to come in and pick up the pieces.”

 

“I saved your life!” Darshavin yelled.

 

That statement was too much for Lucas. “You _destroyed_ me! And then you chose to let me live!” His tone then softened as he said, “But that doesn’t mean I owe you.”

 

“Lucas,” said Jo’s voice from the mobile.

 

He watched as Oleg let the gun fall to his side. “Give me the code, Oleg.”

 

There was still some hesitation before Darshavin began to speak. “I R B 74 H O 9.”

 

They waited a moment before hearing, “The device is disarmed, Lucas,” from Jo.

 

He sighed. “Untie her,” he said to Darshavin, "and we’ll get the money and I’ll take you to the airport.”

 

Darshavin did as Lucas bid, cutting the duct tape from Caulfield’s wrists so she could remove the rest. Keeping watch on Darshavin out of one corner of his eye, Lucas said to Caulfield, “Use whatever vehicle got you here and go back to your flat. I’ll get in touch soon.” He still wanted nothing to do with her, not really.

 

* * *

It was a long, silent car ride between the two men from the estuary back into London proper. Lucas did check in with Ros, though.

 

“The four Sudanese terrorists were arrested,” said Ros.

 

“Is everything in place for Darshavin?” Lucas asked.

 

“As we discussed.”

 

“Good. Ros, will you send someone to Sarah Caulfield’s flat to check on her?”

 

“Yeah, Lucas.”

 

Five minutes later, Lucas stopped the car in a small alley and turned it off. “This does not look like the way to the airport,” Darshavin said.

 

Lucas was quiet, but he heard Oleg’s breathing quicken when they saw the other car pull up across from them. The FSB was right on time.

 

“I have information for you. A covert meeting in Basel, Switzerland. Something you should be aware of.”

 

Darshavin paused for only a few moments, but it was enough for Lucas to need to take a breath of his own. ‘How did Darshavin know about this?’

 

“A world summit of rogue intelligence agents from the West. Even a Chinese presence,” said Darshavin.

 

“Why are you telling me this?” Lucas could hear Oleg’s voice cracking with fear as he spoke, but Lucas wouldn’t look at him.

 

“This is important, Lucas. Be careful who you trust.”

 

Lucas scoffed. “I trusted you, Darshavin. And nearly got myself shot and a building blown up for it. Why should I believe you now?”

 

Darshavin shook his head. “You think I set this up on my own? That the FSB and other backers had nothing to do with it? If you think that, you are a fool.”

 

Lucas turned his head just enough so he could look at Darshavin and still have an eye on the car with the FSB agents inside. “And you think after this stunt I trust you? That MI5 trusts you? That I am going to give you the money and let you go?”

 

“No, I am not a fool,” said Darshavin. “But the FSB will kill me.”

 

“So they will be fulfilling a dream I’ve held for nearly five years. You aren’t helping your case.”

 

“Fuck you, Lucas.”

 

“Again, not helping.”

 

“I don’t know any more about the meet. But I’m sure I could tell you more about the FSB.”

 

“And would it be worth alienating them? Having World War III with the Russians? We made a deal, Oleg. You took a chance and you lost.”

 

Darshavin was silent at this.

 

Lucas turned back to staring straight ahead. “Goodbye, Oleg,” he said as he opened the car door.

 

He could just hear Darshavin’s voice tremble as he said, “Lucas,” very softly. Then the voice was covered by the noises of the opening and closing of car doors and footsteps.

 

Lucas went to the driver’s side of the other car and got in. He purposely didn’t look at Darshavin as he started the car and drove away.

 

* * *

 

Though the day should have been over, Lucas was back at Thames House and he had to deal with Harry Pearce looming at him over his own desk. “Sarah Caulfield should have been formally vetted through me, Lucas.”

 

“She’s _not_ my girlfriend, Harry. In fact, I want to be around her even less now than before.”

 

Harry’s eyebrows rose. “Really? Then what was with Darshavin kidnapping her?”

 

“She came to my flat while he was meeting with me there to put in two bugs. Apparently the CIA think I’m a double agent and she ‘volunteered’ to place them in my flat. We had to come up with a story for her to be there and that was the only thing I could come up with on such short notice.”

 

“Lucas,” Harry shook his head.

 

“Harry. I’m not lying to you. I really don’t like her or want to sleep with her. Sorry if that’s too much information, but there it is.”

 

“Well,” Harry drawled out the word. “Then we have another issue. Why is the CIA sniffing around you?”

 

“I don’t know. Potter wants to meet with Caulfield at next week’s meet. I need to check in with Ruth on research and background creation for Potter and his researcher, Granger.”

 

“You think it’s wise to bring them in?”

 

“Before I handed Darshavin over to the FSB, he told me more about this meeting in Switzerland. It happened in Basel and included rogue intelligence agents from the West and even the Chinese.”

 

“The Chinese?”

 

“Yeah,” said Lucas.

 

“I was planning on calling Samuel Walker over at the CIA and giving him a heads up about the situation in general terms.”

 

“You might want to tell him to keep his investigations close to the vest. If someone who is a part of the conspiracy learns that he is investigating, and that person works at the CIA….”

 

“Yes, indeed.” Harry got up to leave Lucas’s desk.

 

“Darshavin did tell me a strange thing.”

 

“Yes?” Harry asked, sitting back on the desk’s surface.

 

“He said to trust no one. Why would he say that?”

 

“I’ve no idea, Lucas,” Harry said. “I know we did not agree on how this situation with Darshavin went down. I won’t apologize for that. That is my job.”

 

Lucas held Harry’s gaze, but he could feel the anger blossom in his chest and the frown forming on his face.

 

“I do apologize, however, for making it personal,” said Harry.

 

Those words stopped Lucas’s anger in its tracks. “I beg your pardon?”

 

“I shouldn’t have made it personal, even though there were personal issues going on with you and Darshavin. We’ll have to go over some of that later, by the way. Also, a reminder that Jo heard the conversation at the water tower while she was disarming the bomb, so you might be smothered later.”

 

“Thank you, Harry. For the apology and the warning.” Lucas paused before continuing. “I’m still not quite sure what his endgame was and _I_ apologize for letting myself get wrapped up in it so much.”

 

“We’ll deal with it, Lucas. You should go home.”

 

“Did someone go and check on Caulfield?” he asked. “I did say someone would.”

 

“I sent Ros.”

 

Lucas stifled a laugh. “Hopefully their interaction will discourage Caulfield.”

 

“Go home, Lucas.”

 

Lucas watched as Harry went into his office and pulled out a bottle of alcohol and a glass. Lucas wasn’t close enough to see the specific liquor. He wasn’t ready to face more of his mental demons. And if he self-medicated with alcohol he would surely be doing so in his nightmares later.

 

“Lucas?”

 

He heard Jo’s voice behind him. He turned in his chair to face her. “Hey Jo.”

 

She just looked at him for a moment. “Today was…pretty crummy.”

 

Lucas couldn’t help himself as he left out a bark of laughter. She looked wounded as he said, “Sorry, Jo. It’s just…that is an extreme understatement.”

 

“Oh. Well, yes,” she said, nodding. Then she paused before saying, “Did you want to get dinner or something?”

 

“I probably wouldn’t be the best company, Jo.”

 

“Another time, then.”

 

“Don’t forget about the offer to get pissed soon. I think we all need it, really.”

 

Jo nodded. “Okay, Lucas. Have a good night.”

 

“You too, Jo.” He watched as she turned to leave the Grid.

 

Lucas sat at his desk for a few more minutes, hoping to catch Ros before she left for the evening. She definitely deserved an apology from him.

 

“Lucas? I thought you were going home?”

 

“Ros. No, I…. I needed to apologize to you.” She just looked at him. “I wanted you to trust me and then in returned I betrayed yours. I’m sorry.”

 

“Betray is a strong word and I wouldn’t use it in this context.” She paused. “But a failure of trust, yes. Don’t make me revise my motto, Lucas. I usually like you as a colleague. Don’t make me reevaluate that,” Ros said.

 

Lucas nodded. “Alright. I am sorry.”

 

“I assume Jo already asked you about dinner.”

 

“Yeah, but I don’t think I’m good company right now.”

 

“And you really think you should go back to the flat where you just saw your torturer of four years and which the CIA tried to bug?” Ros asked.

 

Lucas sighed. “You know I hate you for being right all the damn time.”

 

“It’s a gift,” said Ros. “I have a spare room. Bit of a mess, but it’ll do for you. We’ll get a takeaway.”

 

“I shouldn’t, Ros.” She stared at him again and raised on eyebrow. “Look, I was already having some nightmares and flashbacks before this cock-up and I don’t think tonight I’ll be spared. I don’t want to disturb you.”

 

“You have to sleep sometime, Lucas.”

 

“I’ll be alright, Ros. Thank you for the offer.” He got up from the desk chair and reached for his coat.

 

“Don’t call me at 2 a.m. then. Call Jo, she’ll be much more sympathetic,” said Ros.

 

Lucas did grin then. “Thanks, boss.” He made his way to the elevator, but stopped on the way and turned back to her. “By the way, how was Caulfield?”

 

“Angry to see me, mad that you won’t call her by her first name and that you said you wouldn’t sleep with her, concerned about your mental state, and scared shitless of Darshavin.”

 

“Shit.”

 

“I’m not going to say she deserved it, because she didn’t, but he didn’t hurt her. He just scared her. And she shouldn’t have been in your flat, or reporting on you. I’m not sure what game she’s playing. We’re going to have to treat her with kid gloves.”

 

“I agree,” said Lucas. “There was definitely something going on as to why she was bugging my flat.”

 

“Another piece in the Nightingale puzzle?” asked Ros.

 

“Maybe. I mean, it looks like the CIA might have a large presence within the group.”

 

“Lovely.” Ros paused. “Go, sleep. It’s late.”

 

After she left, Lucas made the decision to go home and try to sleep at his flat. It wasn’t until he arrived there that he remembered to text Potter. Even thought it was late, he thought the Auror needed to be kept up to date. 

_Potter, current crisis over. Newest chess piece known is China. No other groups identified. Meet location was Basel. LN_

 

Trying to sleep after the day’s clusterfuck would not be easy. As much as he may have wanted Darshavin dead, he certainly wasn’t pleased about it. And the memories that the man’s presence had dragged to the surface of his mind were still there. But at the same moment, his anger was grounding him, too.

 

When he had still been in therapy, just after returning from Russia, the therapist had gone through a number of grounding techniques with him. The easiest ones had been breathing to relax and bring down his anxiety levels. But he had been trying that all day and it hadn’t really worked, so he decided to combine that with some classical music that he enjoyed.

 

Though Darshavin had never had music accompanying his sessions, Lucas still stayed away from the heavy tones of Beethoven and Rossini, a la _A Clockwork Orange_. Instead, he used his iPod and pulled up a particular slow version of Pachelbel’s _Canon in D_.

 

It had been years since Lucas had played an instrument, but he let his breathing match the music as much as possible for someone listening rather than playing the piece. He kept his eyes open and focused on what he was hearing rather than the memories. It was good, something he hadn’t done in awhile but needed to do more often to keep himself from breaking. He noticed his hands unclenching around the arms of his chair and his fingertips tapping out the rhythm of the notes. Lucas listened to the piece twice more before he felt that he might be able to sleep with minimal interruption.


	10. Next Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Learning more about Nightingale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! Have a new, long chapter.
> 
> Might be a bit of a long wait for the next, I have essentially caught up to myself. Hope everyone who celebrates it enjoyed Turkey Day.

The next morning Lucas woke, if not refreshed, at least less troubled. He was pleasantly surprised that if he had had dreams and nightmares, he did not remember them. He figured that the mental and physical exhaustion of the day before had played a role in his sleep. It was hard to believe everything with Darshavin had only happened in a day. While most days he was fine with the hot water of the shower, he decided to not push it, and bathed in the bathroom sink.

 

Checking his messages after dressing, he saw one from Potter time stamped earlier that morning.

            _North, glad to hear current crisis is over. New player interesting, as is meet location. Still working research at our end. HP_

 

With Harry’s text, Lucas mentally reviewed his to-do list: meeting with Ruth to discuss research on Nightingale and the cover stories for Harry and Hermione; debrief with Harry and Ros on Darshavin; and checking in with Sarah Caulfield to ensure they would be able to have a meet the next week. He also needed to tell Harry Pearce that all of Section D needed to be vetted to ensure they had no ties with Nightingale; Lucas was sure that no one had such a connection, but the events of the previous day showed the holes in his perception. They also needed to dig into Sarah Caulfield: her actions were just too odd to not be a concern.

 

When he got to the Grid it was a controlled chaos. At the first chance he grabbed Jo to ask what was going on. “Lucas, Samuel Walker, you know, the CIA head here, died late last night. It happened right before Harry got a chance to talk with him.”

 

“Shit.” So much for a slow day. “Where’s Harry?”

 

“In his office on the phone.” Jo paused. “I’m probably going to ask this for awhile, but are you ok?” She put her hand on his right forearm, just above where his shirt covered his armband tattoo.

 

“I slept okay last night. I don’t know if that will continue,” he said and sighed. “I don’t want to talk about it, Jo. But I will be alright.”

 

“Alright, Lucas.” She paused again and turned to go before remembering something and turning back to him. “Ruth has some information for you.”

 

“Thanks Jo.”

 

Ruth’s desk was set a little bit away from the field agents and closer to Malcolm and Tariq. With her back to the elevator, she hadn’t noticed Lucas’s entrance to the Grid until he came around the desk into her line of sight. “Ruth, I heard from Jo you have something for me?”

 

“Yeah, Lucas. How are you doing?”

 

“Don’t fuss, Ruth. I am alright,” said Lucas. “Memories I would have preferred to keep buried are coming up, but that can’t be helped.” He paused. “Information on Nightingale or Harry and Hermione’s covers?”

 

“Both, actually.” She reached for a pile of papers on her desk. Passing them to him, she said, “Here are the covers for the two magic users so they can meet with anyone you want.”

 

“What cover did you give them?”

 

“An easy one to remember: joint café and bookshop owners in North London. That’s easier than trying to make them both part of the security services.”

 

“No, it’s good.” He quickly flipped through the papers. “What about Nightingale? And did Harry tell you I am suspicious of our CIA liaison?”

 

“Sarah Caulfield?”

 

Lucas nodded.

 

“No, he didn’t.” Ruth pulled out a small pad of paper to take notes.

 

“What about the information from Darshavin?”

 

She frowned at Darshavin’s name. “No, he has been distracted by Walker’s death all morning and I haven’t gotten any information from him.”

 

“Okay, well then this might help. Apparently the meet took place in Basel. Rogue Western intelligence agents along with the Chinese, at the very least.”

 

“Crap.” She made some notes. “Lucas, the inclusion of the Chinese makes me think something nuclear.”

 

“That was my first thought as well,” said Lucas, “and I told my wizarding contact as much.”

 

“It is too much of a coincidence that the original information from the Home Secretary supposedly came from a CIA agent and now the head of the CIA in Britain is dead.”

 

“Don’t forget that Caulfield wanted to bug my flat,” reminded Lucas.

 

She sighed. “You don’t buy her story.”

 

Lucas sat on the surface of her desk, trying to look calm and casual. “In my opinion, it stinks. Any way you look at it, it was a poor move unless the _only_ directive was for information on sources and how much MI5 knows. Not that I am in the habit of making use of my flat that way, but if she thought she could get close to me, who knows?” He paused again and ran his hand through his hair. “Ruth, I think you need to look at Caulfield as a member of the conspiracy.”

 

“Seriously?”

 

“I don’t think she is a high-level player. I’ll see what Harry and Hermione say. Any other leads?”

 

“You might be right in thinking there is also a rogue wizarding element. I can’t get a lot of information on that front, of course, but there are some odd holes in the online chatter.” She pulled another file from her desk and handed it to Lucas. “Here are copies of what I have so far, but you might see what Tariq has. I put him on the research, too.”

 

Lucas raised an eyebrow at her as he began to stand. “And Harry agreed?”

 

“Yes, he did. I think that we have to consider that this touches all the major players in the intelligence world in some way.”

 

“Lovely. I’ll text Potter.”

 

“I’ll start working on this again with the new information you’ve given me. Check in with Tariq.”

 

“Yes, ma’am,” he said cheekily.

 

“Lucas,” she groaned.

 

“I’m going.”

 

With Tariq near Ruth, he stopped there first. His data was very similar. Lucas also gave him instructions to work on Sarah Caulfield’s background.

 

“Lucas?” Ros’s voice from Harry’s office echoed across the Grid.

 

“Hey Ros.”

 

She looked at him with a frown. “Harry wants to debrief about Darshavin in his office.”

 

“Lovely,” he said, his voice very dry. He’d be lucky to avoid an official reprimand. And, of course, the walls of Harry’s office were open and glass. He followed Ros into Harry’s office and sat facing his boss. Ros didn’t sit in the other chair, instead choosing to stay near the glass wall next to the doorway.

 

Deciding pleasantries wouldn’t go amiss, Lucas said, “Good morning to you both.”

 

“Lucas,” Harry said. “Did you hear about Walker?”

 

“Jo told me.” Lucas paused before saying, “I gave Ruth some revised research parameters.”

 

“Good,” said Harry. He looked at Ros but she wouldn’t meet his gaze. “We need to talk about what happened yesterday. Both the op and the aftermath. I want to talk about the aftermath first.”

 

“As arranged, the FSB took custody of Darshavin. I’m assuming, based on what he told me, that if he is not already dead, he soon will be.”

 

“And your feelings on that?” asked Harry.

 

Lucas wanted to roll his eyes but refrained. “Well, Harry, you aren’t my therapist, but I’ll admit to being conflicted. I’m not sorry, but I don’t like to think of dying, particularly at the hands of the FSB.” He paused and kept looking at Harry’s face. “He did torture me for four years.”

 

“Yes, he did.” Harry was quiet at that. “I am sorry that you had to deal with him.”

 

Lucas shrugged. “We needed the intel. While this was difficult emotionally, we deal with scumbags on a regular basis. You really don’t need to worry about me, Harry.”

 

“Alright, then let’s discuss the op.” Harry laced his fingers together before placing his hands on the desk surface and leaning forward. “That situation cannot happen again.” When Lucas looked at him blankly, he elaborated. “Going off coms, losing your tail. Acting without backup on your own initiative when previously agreeing to a different course.”

 

Lucas sat back in his chair, trying to seem more nonchalant than he actually was. “You want me to lie to you?”

 

From her perch Ros let out a scoff.

 

“Lucas….”

 

“Harry, all of us in this room know that is impossible. What I can do is promise to inform you if I feel something needs changing. I will trust you with my judgment of the situation.” Harry tried to stare him down, but Lucas stood firm in his resolve. No way was he going to promise anything when lives could be at stake.

 

“I told you, Harry.”

 

It was nice to hear Ros stick up for him, especially when it really had been her trust he had fully believed in on this op.

 

Harry sighed. “I guess I will have to agree with that. You’re too good an agent to lose.”

 

“Can we talk Nightingale now?” asked Lucas. Harry nodded, and Lucas continued. “I told Ruth about the Chinese and to look into Caulfield. She’s readied backgrounds for my wizarding asset and his researcher because he wants to meet Caulfield.” Pausing, Lucas looked at both spooks before saying quietly, “We need to figure out a way to vet all of us and insure that we don’t have a mole.”

 

At his words Harry winced and Ros’s mouth set into a hard line. “I have no suspicions, I swear,” said Lucas, “but it should be done. Especially with the CIA bugging my flat and Walker’s death. Also since most of us are already working on this op. Ruth already brought Tariq in.”

 

“They are saying Walker’s death was a suicide,” said Ros.

 

“You knew the man, Harry. What do you think?” asked Lucas.

 

“I didn’t get a chance to speak with him again after our last discussion, but his demeanor gave me no indications of suicide.”

 

“If I were the CIA, I would accuse him of stealing or money laundering,” said Ros. “What about those actual scenarios? Could he have been a part of this global conspiracy?”

 

“Possible, but not probable, in my opinion,” said Harry. “I mean, he’s a lifelong CIA agent. Not new to the scene. Has a family with young children. I just can’t see it.”

 

“We’ll keep it as a possibility then, but put it at the end of the list,” said Ros. “Any other ideas?”

 

“I think it is nuclear. Look at the players: US, China, Russia via at least the FSB. We know that we had a rogue group from the old days with you, Harry, from India looking for uranium. There are too many coincidences. Ruth also noted that there are some holes in the Internet chatter that may indicate a wizarding presence. Or it could be just another player we haven’t identified,” said Lucas.

 

“If it has a wizarding element, could they be the leaders?” asked Ros.

 

“I’d like to talk to Adam, if possible, about that, but I would say no, unless there is a new terrorist group that Potter hasn’t yet introduced me to.”

 

Harry looked contemplative. “Alright. Go see Adam this afternoon. Status on your meet with Potter?”

 

“We meet in four days.”

 

“I want as full a picture as possible.” Harry turned in his chair to the credenza behind him. “Out,” he said, making a ‘shooing’ motion with his hands.

 

Lucas got up and left the office. Upon reaching his desk, he pulled out his mobile and dialed the rehab center where Adam currently lived and let them know he would be arriving that afternoon.

 

He heard Ros coming behind him. “Lucas, if you think the threat is nuclear, why the connection with the wizarding world?”

 

He turned in his chair to face her. “Can’t quite put my finger on why. Just that the known players make sense.”

 

“But add in the wizards and we could be looking at an entirely different scenario.”

 

“I know, but Ros, think about it. I have no idea what sort of defenses wizards can come up with. If we all blow ourselves up, it’s a much smaller population to explain magic to and perhaps then rule over.”

 

She stared at him. “Lucas, that is Machiavellian. I know we’ve known sorry, desperate, insane terrorist ideas, but that one is out there.”

 

“I know, Ros,” said Lucas. “Unless the next red alert comes in tomorrow, how do you feel about a small get together, you and me and Jo, and Ruth? We’ll get pissed. I’ll buy the liquor.”

 

“You think that is such a good idea? We’re in the middle of a large op.”

 

“We’re always going to be in the middle of an op, Ros. Occasionally we have to take time for ourselves.”

 

“Check with Jo. If she says yes, I’m in. Ruth too,” said Ros. “I’ll bring a film. You provide the food as well.”

 

“Nothing mushy, dramatic, or too violent, please.”

 

“I’ll do my best,” said Ros before leaving for her own desk.

 

Lucas hadn’t seen Jo since he had been called into Harry’s office. It was easier to send her a text than to wander around, even in Thames House.

            _LN: Ros agreed to come by my flat tomorrow for drinks and dinner. She’s going to bring a film. You in? (If no red alert of course.)_

 

Lucas had time to go through Adam’s notes on his wizard contact again before receiving a reply from her.

 

            _JP: I’m in. Can I bring anything? Ruth be there?_

_LN: 7pm. Only if you want something particular food- or drink-wise. I’ll provide the rest. About to ask Ruth._

 

Ruth wasn’t at her desk, nor was she in the Section D kitchenette. He made his way up to the roof to check there.

 

She stood at the edge of the roof, shielded by a large wall but staring out at the city. “Ruth?” he asked softly, not wanting to startle her.

 

She turned around with a smile when she heard him. “Lucas.”

 

He looked around at their surroundings and asked, “Everything alright?”

 

“Just thinking. Try to get a different perspective on this conspiracy.”

 

“Oh.” Lucas was quiet for a moment. “I asked Ros and Jo to join me tomorrow at my flat. Dinner, liquor, and Ros is bringing the film. A way to exorcise demons among friends. I know we are in the middle of a large op, but I’d like you to come as well.” He paused. “I can ask Tariq or Malcolm if you ladies fear for your virtue,” he said, winking at her.

 

“You are terrible,” she said, putting her hand on Lucas’s forearm. “Sounds like a plan. And are you sure it isn’t your own virtue you should be protecting from the three of us?” She winked back at him.

 

Shaking his head at her, he said, “My flat at 7. I’ll get you the address,” before going back to the door leading into Thames House.

 

* * *

Lucas liked visiting Adam more in the rehab center than he ever had while the other man had been in the hospital. The hospital had felt to Lucas like a place of death, while the rehab center felt full of life. Knocking on the door of the man’s rom, he was greeted by a wide smile.

 

“Lucas!”

 

“Adam.” Lucas reached for the man’s right hand to shake it. The left side of his body was still covered in compression dressings and Lucas couldn’t see Adam’s left hand. He had gotten far enough away from the car bomb to avoid the main explosion, but had been caught in the blast wave and fire from the bomb. “How are you doing?”

 

Adam sighed. “Better for being here rather than in hospital. Physical therapy has started and it’s a bitch. The psychotherapy isn’t much better.”

 

“I can imagine,” commented Lucas. “Mind if I sit?” he asked, point to a somewhat comfortable-looking chair.

 

“Please. Tell me all the goings on.”

 

“Jo said she had been to see you not too long ago, so I won’t duplicate her efforts.”

 

“Lucas, please tell me someone is talking to her. She told me about Bibi Sarapova. The last time something like that happened she ended up running for miles and miles until her feet were bloody.”

 

“I’m trying, Adam. We all are. And she also has me to fuss over right now.” Lucas looked away from Adam in the bed and instead focused on the window. “At least you have a nice view here.”

 

Adam’s reply was dry. “Yes, well, when the operators are aware you will be here for months at least, they pull out all the stops.” He paused. “Why is she fussing over you? Russia?”

 

“Yeah,” Lucas nodded as he spoke. “My FSB interrogator showed up.”

 

“In London?”

 

Lucas nodded again.

 

“Well, shit.”

 

“It’s a long story, but now essentially all of Section D know much more than I would prefer about my time there.” Lucas paused. “On the upside, I’ve been given wizard duty and I thought I would try to pick your brain.”

 

Adam frowned. “Lucas, sometimes my memories are hazy,” said Adam. “They’re pretty sure that shrapnel from the car hit me in the head. It might never come back.”

 

“Well,” said Lucas, “anything you can give me will help. I mean, I’m working with a different contact than you did, but I know nothing about the wizarding world.”

 

“I didn’t either. Well, I can go through what I remember….”


	11. Studying Potter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Learning Harry Potter's history and the end of the war with Voldemort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a hard time with this chapter, and had intended to get to the party, but Lucas decided we needed some more angst. Because we haven't had enough yet.

Lucas spent the rest of the afternoon with Adam, but his memories were fairly similar to the notes he had made. Little new information on his interactions with the wizards came forth.

 

Just as Lucas was about to leave, Adam asked, “How’s Ros?”

 

At the question Lucas sat back down. “She’s alright. We’re all a little on tenderhooks. Lots of irons in the fire.”

 

Adam sighed. “She hasn’t been to see me.”

 

“Really?” said Lucas. “I’m surprised.” He paused. “Actually, no, I’m not. She can seem cold, but I know she’s not.”

 

“I think…she might feel guilty.”

 

Lucas’s eyes grew wide. “What do you mean?”

 

“Well, she saw me right after I discovered the bomb in the car. She may think that because I spoke with her a few extra moments I missed the opportunity to escape the blast completely.”

 

“Could she really think that?”

 

“I’m sure she could,” said Adam. “Did she give you the ‘friends, family, lovers, colleagues’ speech?”

 

Lucas laughed weakly. “She did.”

 

“She’s right, you know. Colleagues are better.”

 

* * *

On his way home Lucas realized that he had not yet read Potter’s debrief. He owed it to the man, Lucas felt, as well as to himself, to know what he had gone through. It might also lead to some other Nightingale connection that Potter may have overlooked. Similarly, Lucas tried to not investigate anything to do with Russia or the FSB.

 

Though he knew his good days were a result of being able to take the time to handle his stress, the fact that he had actually slept through the night also gave him the impetus to read through the notebook. Additionally, the anticipation of getting completely pissed with his coworkers the next evening excited him. As Lucas made himself a cup of tea, he hoped that a red flash wouldn’t interrupt the next evening.

 

He flipped through the pages that he had read previously: Harry’s home life with his relatives in the Muggle world and his years at Hogwarts. He recognized the name Granger now and then as he skimmed the pages, and found he was intrigued by the researcher. It appeared she was Potter’s best friend throughout Hogwarts and she obviously currently worked with Potter. He had also set the wizarding history nearby if he could manage to get through Potter’s debrief without flipping out.

 

The first section dealt with Potter’s capture by Voldemort’s people: a group called ‘Death Eaters.’ Potter wrote that he had been working behind the scenes essentially as an intelligence analyst during his last year at Hogwarts in addition to studying for his NEWTs, the equivalent of the Muggle A-level exams. This was due to Potter’s previous interactions with Voldemort and the Death Eaters, even though he had essentially been on house arrest at Hogwarts since the summer his godfather died.

 

However, with his Hogwarts education completed, it appeared that there was no way for Potter to remain on Hogwarts premises or that he had thought it safe enough after two years to leave. The reasoning behind the change wasn’t clearly given in the debrief. He took a flat on the English wizarding High Street, Diagon Alley, and tried to blend in and decide what to do next with his life, even as the war continued.

 

Harry had been caught one afternoon not long after his 18th birthday. He had been visiting the bookshop, Flourish and Blots, which catered to the majority of the British wizarding community. Catching sight of two individuals who, if not actual Death Eaters, were decidedly sympathetic to Voldemort’s cause, Potter ducked out the back of the shop. A actual Death Eater immediately grabbed him and ‘portkeyed’ to one of their dungeons.

 

The words made Lucas’s blood run cold. Say what you like about being captured by an enemy government and held: at least eventually there was a government to negotiate with. And dungeon? Much too medieval for his liking.

 

Potter described being portkeyed into a cell in a dungeon in a castle owned by one Bellatrix Lestrange, the woman who had killed his godfather. Reading Harry’s neat, even script Lucas could see the indentations in the paper and the broad, fast strokes of the pen that indicated his anger at the woman nearly 10 years later. Death Easters stripped Potter of his wand, but unlike a prison, he had been allowed to keep his own clothes. He saw no one after that for weeks, as he measured time via meals delivered by a silent house elf. (Here Lucas had to stop and reference the wizarding history to get an understanding of what a house elf looked like.)

 

While there had been nothing, at least as far as he knew at the time, to keep him from using wandless magic, Potter refrained. Better to keep his abilities a secret. He had also kept secret the amount of training he had undergone while at Hogwarts that last year, including physically, mentally, and magically.

 

There had been a single window, high on the wall near the roofline, which provided light and fresh air. To the Death Eaters, the main idea of solitary confinement was a torture, but Potter had endured a mental solitary confinement for the previous two years, even if a physical one hadn’t mirrored it.

 

Harry wrote that he was adept at immersing himself into what he called a ‘mindscape’: a place of mental mediation that was part of the mental wizarding arts. These mental arts included occlumency and legilimancy: the ability to block or invade minds, respectively. Harry admitted he had had to be better at occlumency due to his visions from Voldemort. Here Lucas stopped and read through the summary of Harry’s fifth year again. Succinctly Harry had recounted his lessons with Severus Snape, his failure to discern the truth, and how he had failed his godfather.

 

Occasionally Lucas stopped reading altogether and considered Harry Potter’s history. The more he read and understood the more he wondered how Harry had survived. It was one thing to suffer as an adult as Lucas hand, but quite another to experience so many atrocities as a young person. It made Lucas almost sick, but he kept reading.

 

Lucas understood solitary confinement and how it was used to break prisoners. How it could be used to make the prisoner crave _any_ form of human contact, fair or foul. Based on Harry’s debrief it appeared the wizarding world was just as adept at its use as the Muggle one. At least Harry had had a window and knew a world beyond the four walls of his cell had existed, a mercy Lucas had only known early on during his time in Russia.

 

When Harry began to describe the events of his first release from solitary, Lucas was surprised. It appeared that wizards disliked getting their hands dirty, and used magic to inflict pain, both mental and physical. Harry’s writings described horrific curses that tortured the victim by them _feeling_ as if they were being physically brutalized, but manifested in no outward physical signs of torture. As he read, Lucas noted to himself that that situation would make it more difficult for the torturers to know when to stop, how much their victim could withstand, or how long it should be between sessions for the prisoner to recover. But he also recognized that Harry’s torturers were not wanting information, like Darshavin; they were torturing him just for the sake of it.

 

Harry noted those Death Eaters he had known before his abduction: Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix Lestrange, Antonin Dolohov, and Rudolphus and Rabastan Lestrange. Peter Pettigrew was also mentioned, but more as an observer than a participant. Lucas made note of all these names to look up in the wizarding history to ensure they were no longer free, but didn’t wish to stop reading.

 

Voldemort did not participate in the torture in the early days of Potter’s imprisonment. Potter’s writings did not mention him at all. Here Lucas did stop and look for a war synopsis or timeline in the history to see what else was going on. If Potter’s timekeeping was accurate, at this point he had been held at least a month and a half, putting the date in mid-September of 1998. Lucas had been working at MI5 for three years at that point and was dating Elizaveta. In November of that year he had proposed.

 

Lucas sighed to himself. Even know, knowing they would never be together again, he still felt love for her. He felt pain in his heart that she had moved on, though he had known it would happen. He had hoped otherwise while in Lushanka, of course.

 

He turned back to Harry’s notebook and compared the dates in the wizarding history. There were no attacks from Voldemort listed in the timeline. A footnote on one page caught his eye, however: “During this period there was a rumor within the wizarding world proper that Harry Potter had been kidnapped by Voldemort. Both the Ministry of Magic and Albus Dumbledore, Hogwarts’ headmaster, vehemently denied this. Due to the known existence of several prophecies, it was believed that only Harry Potter could defeat Voldemort.” Lucas shook his head. Harry couldn’t seem to get a break. No wonder Voldemort wanted him kept under lock and key but also away from him.

 

Harry’s recollection of the time essentially in solitary continued. He marked time by house elf visits and torture sessions. He attempted no magic, but tried to keep himself physically in shape, as most prisoners tried to do. He saw no one other than Death Eaters, and heard nothing from the outside world, confirming Lucas’s suspicion that the torture was for fun rather than information.

 

The lists of curses were long and varied. Harry had organized the curses into two columns, with the spell on the left and the effect on the right. It ran for many pages. Knowing that this had been compiled after Harry’s imprisonment, Lucas hoped that Harry didn’t actually remember all of these being used on him. The one, small mercy, was that none of the spells were of a sexual nature, which Lucas found intriguing. Perhaps being able to mentally control someone with a spell was so empowering for the torturer that he or she had no need to turn to sexual violence. And still, weeks passed and Voldemort avoided Harry. Harry continued his mental exercises to keep himself sane: it was obvious to Lucas that though his torturers wished to push him, there were safeguards in place to ensure Harry remained himself mentally.

 

Lucas continued to read and continued to use his grounding exercises to stay calm. As Harry’s notebook put the date closer to a year after his initial capture, Voldemort made his first appearance. Lucas had not noticed previously in his earlier readings that interactions with the Dark Lord caused Harry excruciating pain, but it was obvious now. The addition to Harry of more mental torture seemed to have the opposite effect than the one Voldemort intended: after a year of imprisonment and torture, Harry’s mind was a fortress that he shored up on a daily basis. Unable to get the reaction he desired, Voldemort then retreated to physical and, finally, sexual humiliation, though not at his own hands. The descriptions Harry wrote, very clearly and succinctly, nearly made Lucas ill. He marveled at Harry’s ability to be detached in his writing.

 

The solitary confinement also continued, until Potter wrote of a Death Eater insider who was actually a spy within Voldemort’s ranks working to provide him the opportunity to escape. The person’s name was not mention, and the details here were less clear. Lucas had to read more between the lines and he still couldn’t tell exactly what had happened.

 

And then Potter’s ‘war story’ stopped. A few sentences noted the end of the war and death of Voldemort in the fall of 2000, and Potter’s retreat back into the Muggle world in 2001. The journal itself was dated to 2004. In order to fill in the gaps, Lucas pulled the wizarding history closer.

 

Harry’s capture was not mentioned, and it appeared as if he had been an integral member of the group to eradicate Voldemort and his Death Eaters. A spell was used that separated Voldemort’s ‘soul’ from the body that had been reborn in Harry’s fourth year and both destroyed. The link between the two, being unnaturally constructed, were severed irrevocably and banished. There had also been pitched battle between the Light and Dark, as the two factions were known, which had impacted many of the people Harry had known in the wizarding world. This included several of the Weasley family, including his friend Ron. Harry’s writings from his sixth and seventh years had indicated that the two had drifted as the younger male Weasley hadn’t really understood or accepted the depth of Harry’s depression or the lack of Harry’s desire to date his sister.


	12. Time for a Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We finally see the "party" Lucas throws with his coworkers at his flat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the Lucas that lives in my head can't resist the angst. Sorry guys. Also, I have no idea how this chapter got to be so long. It did not seem that way as I was writing it. Let me know if something is off or weird. I have a general plotline I'm following, but I'm writing this as I post. I use my iPhone to have the fic read to me and that helps me catch some typos and errors, but not all.
> 
> Also, Harry Potter will be back next chapter, in person, I might add!

After spending his Friday night reading Potter’s debrief, Lucas was mentally and emotionally spent. He ended up sleeping later than he would like on the morning of the ‘party.’ He made lists of items to purchase, including the booze he thought each lady might prefer, though he decided to get in a whole stock. He already had two bottles of excellent vodka in the freezer for himself. As to food, he had no illusions as to his cooking skills. He placed several takeaway orders to be delivered just before his guest arrived, as well as making a trip to a local bakery for sweets.

 

The flat itself was fairly clutter-free. His ‘minimalist’ surroundings for eight years had definitely had an impact on that aspect of his personality. There was furniture, a tv, and picture on the walls, but knick-knacks were nonexistent.

 

Lucas heard his phone vibrate with an incoming text message and hoped it wasn’t anything to do with work. “We all need this downtime,” he said aloud to himself.

 

            _JP: Need anything from me? Just checking in, making sure we are still a go._

 

Lucas smiled to himself as he read Jo’s text. He was truly beginning to enjoy her company, which surprised him. None of his previous colleagues or any of the women he had dated prior to Russia had been like Jo. He could admit to himself that it puzzled him.

            _LN: Everything is good here, unless there is something specific you want. Want everyone to have fun._

_JP: I’m happy with anything! Looking forward to it, see you soon._

 

Just before 7, Lucas actually found himself being excitingly nervous, an interesting state for him. He wanted this to succeed. He also acknowledged that he wanted his colleagues to see beyond the broken part of him and realize that there was more than that. Really, he was just crossing his fingers that they would all show up.

 

He wasn’t surprised when Ruth arrived first, even beating all the food deliveries. He was surprised, however, when she greeted him with a kiss on his cheek and a bottle of wine. He had only ever seen her in slacks and jackets, but she was very simply dressed in dark jeans and a camel-colored v-neck sweater.

 

“Hello Ruth.”

 

“Lucas! Thank you for hosting this little get together. I’ve been quite excited thinking about it.” She paused as she stood in the entry, taking in the sight of Lucas’s flat. “Plus,” she said, “I’m looking forward to learning more about you. I already know Ros and Jo, of course.”

 

“Thank you for bringing the wine, Ruth, but you didn’t need to. I got in a huge stock today and the food should be delivered soon.”

 

“Ah, well. The wine is for you, Lucas. A thank you. We don’t often get away from our office personas around each other, and it’s usually for a good reason.”

 

“Well, I just thought we could all use the break,” said Lucas, as there was another kick at the door. ‘Saved from having to answer uncomfortable questions before drinking!’ he thought.

 

Answering the door he found one of the food deliveries and brought it inside after tipping the young delivery man. “Ruth, I’m going to set out all the food on the kitchen counter. I got a variety for us so be can have a little bit of everything.” He started setting out the Chinese food he had ordered, but didn’t open the containers.

 

“Lucas.”

 

Hearing Ruth’s voice say his name but nothing else had him turning from the counter. “Everything alright?”

 

She looked at him with a little hesitation. “Lucas, this is a lovely flat.” The words came out a bit cool.

 

Ah, now he understood. “Ruth, I used some of my back pay from Russia to find a nice place. Are you always so suspicious?”

 

Her face fell. “My apologies, Lucas. I just….” Here she paused. “I need to turn off my analyst-mind.”

 

“We’re all here to have fun and enjoy each other’s company,” Lucas said as he heard another knock. “Relax.”

 

This time it was Jo and the second food delivery. He invited her in as he said, “Ruth is already here. I’ll be right in,” and reached again for his wallet.

 

Jo looked casual, as she usually did. “I brought a bag, just in case I ended up falling asleep on your couch.”

 

Coming back into the kitchen with the food he saw Jo and Ruth share a quick hug. “Obviously, we’re still waiting on Ros and the last food delivery, but I can I get or make either one of you a drink?” With them both facing him, he pointed to a table he had set up with all the alcohol he had bought. “Pick your poison. I also have vodka cooling in the freezer.”

 

He turned back to the counters to get up the food and was startled when he felt a light hand come around his back and settle on his waist. “Thank you for this, Lucas,” said Jo. “Like I said in my text, I’m excited.”

 

‘When was the last time I was hugged by a woman?’ Lucas asked himself. He couldn’t remember. The sensation felt odd, and he was also somewhat surprised, as he hadn’t noticed her getting close to him. “I am, too, Jo.” He swung his body out of her embrace without really returning it.

 

“Your flat is lovely, so open.”

 

“Thanks. I’m hoping Harry doesn’t make me move. For awhile I was just hopping flats, trying to find something that appealed.”

 

“Well, you made a good choice.”

 

“Can I make you a drink?” Lucas asked again. “Oh, there’s beer in the fridge as well. I hope there’s something you like.”

 

“I’m just going to poke about a bit, see what jumps out at me,” said Jo.

 

“Alright.” Lucas drawled out the word. “Well, just let me know.” At this knock at the door he winked at Jo and said, “Food or Ros?”

 

“Food.” Jo smiled at him. “Ros will want to make an entrance.”

 

He smiled when, upon answering the door, he saw Jo was wrong. “Hello, Ros. Thank you for breaking your mantra this evening.” He stood aside to let her in. She, like Ruth, had dressed down a bit, and was carrying a bag as well.

 

She rolled her eyes at him. “Don’t make me smack you, Lucas. This is an extension of being colleagues. I reserve the right to call a taxi at any point.”

 

“Ros, you wound me,” he replied. “Just waiting for another food delivery. Jo and Ruth are already here.”

 

“So I see, Lucas.”

 

He watched as Ros greeted the other women with handshakes rather than the hugs and kisses shared by the other two. He knew Ros’s cold outward demeanor frustrated people, but he understood it quite well. “Can I get you a drink, Ros?” he asked.

 

“Gin and tonic, please.” As he turned to go back into the kitchen, he heard Ros say, “And make it heavy on the gin, Lucas.”

 

Before he could start her drink the last food delivery arrived. He put everything out on the counters and made Ros’s drink. Taking the drink to her, he said to them, “So, I got Chinese, Indian, and some fish and chips. I keep having a craving for them, so I don’t promise I won’t eat them all. But there’s plenty. Did you two find a drink?” he asked Jo and Ruth. Both nodded. “Alright then. Help yourselves. Ros, you did bring a film or two, right?”

 

She rolled her eyes at him again. “Yes, Lucas. I follow directions. Food first, I’m famished.” She led the way to the kitchen and began to fill her plate.

 

Lucas went to the fridge and poured himself a tumbler of vodka. It was perfectly cold and work well with the food. “Also, sit wherever you like. The couch isn’t the most comfortable, but it’s serviceable.”

 

Jo let out a sound between a _humph_ and a laugh. “I barely know what to do with myself if I get to eat at an actual table rather than at my desk, on the run, or in my car, Lucas. No couch for me.”

 

Lucas just shrugged. “Whatever makes you happy, Jo.”

 

Ros very obviously maneuvered one of Lucas’s armchairs from the sitting room to face his dining table while not sitting at it. He merely shook his head before setting his drink down at the table with Jo and going to fill his own plate. “I also got some sweet pastries from a local bakery.”

 

“Lucas, whatever made you decide to host this little soirée?” asked Ros.

 

His back was to her as he began to speak. “Well,” he paused, “partly because we could all use the break from our jobs for a bit. It has been rough going for some time. Partly because I needed it. Partly to get to know you all better and hopefully likewise.” He hoped that was honest enough without revealing too much. He really needed to get at least one drink in him before more probing questions were asked.

 

“So Lucas,” he heard Jo’s voice next. “How is working with the wizards? Are they so very different than us?”

 

Taking his plate to the table, he sat with Jo and Ruth across from him and Ros not far away. “I like the liaison. His name is Harry, so sometimes that gets a bit confusing. I have only really met one witch, and she did not seem that different to me, but Harry hasn’t taken me into the Wizarding World proper yet. Too busy. The pub where we meet straddles both worlds.”

 

“Interesting,” said Ruth. “What’s he like.”

 

“He’s a Spook, too, so remarkably like us. Keeps his friends close and enemies closer.” He paused. “He’s young, like Tariq young. But there’s a lot that goes on in that world we don’t know anything about.”

 

“Lucas, I don’t think I’ve asked you before, but do you have any siblings?” asked Jo.

 

“Yes, an older sister and two younger brothers. You?” He was not going to let this turn into a ‘question-Lucas’ session.

 

“An older brother.”

 

Lucas sensed Ruth’s disbelief that they haven’t dug into each other’s lives before this. “Ruth, I’ve been trying to get back my life after eight years. I haven’t had time to go digging into anyone else’s.” He could hear Ros’s snort of laughter.

 

Ruth shrugged. “Fair enough, Lucas.”

 

He sighed. This was not at all going like he had wanted. Maybe he should have invited Malcolm and Tariq, too. “Ros, what films did you bring?”

 

“As requested, comedy.” She pulled her bag closer and dug inside. “First, a comedy requirement: Monty Python.”

 

Ruth actually squealed. “I love _Life of Brian_!”

 

“We also have,” said Ros, ignoring Ruth, “ _Austin Powers_. And, if we want to poke fun at our American friends, I also brought _Independence Day_.” She shrugged. “It has aliens.”

 

Lucas couldn’t help his laughter. “Well, that is certainly an eclectic mix. I think with Ruth’s enthusiasm we might have to pick _Life of Brian_ first.”

 

“Sounds good,” said Jo.

 

With his gaze swinging back to her, Lucas made up his mind to ask a question he had had for awhile. “Jo, how or where did you meet Tariq? I know he came in with you on his first day.”

 

“Oh.” Jo paused as she looked back and forth between the three Spooks, and before answering got up to add more food to her still half-full plate. “I met him through Ben. He kept some friends through the university and after, well, everything, I called him and asked if he wanted to join.”

 

“With no concerns about his safety or anything?” asked Ruth.

 

Even as they could hear Ros’s scoff, Jo said, “Well, he’s an analyst, not a field agent.”

 

“Well, it will be good to have another computer analyst. Hopefully that means Malcolm won’t stay on the Grid all night,” said Lucas.

 

“He’d do better if you stopped eating all the chocolate doughnuts, Lucas. Did you leave any for us this evening?” Jo teased.

 

“No, let Lucas eat them all! It keeps me from eating them!” exclaimed Ruth.

 

Ros leaned closer to Lucas. “What did you give her to drink?” she asked under her breath.

 

“Oh shut it, Ros. I’m here to have fun,” said Ruth. “Just because you don’t know how….”

 

“Whoa, whoa. We’re all going to have fun,” said Lucas. “I do not want to play peacemaker, it’s not in my nature.”

 

Ros made an amused _harrumph_ noise. “I can have fun, Ruth.”

 

“Let’s put in the film,” said Jo.

 

“Great idea,” said Lucas. “I didn’t see this film until I was at university, and it’s been a long time since then.”

 

“Why not until university?” asked Ruth.

 

“Oh, my minister father would never let me watch such a thing. Even when I was a teenager. Perhaps _especially_ when I was a teenager,” he said.

 

“I had forgotten that your father was a minister,” said Jo.

 

“Yes, a Methodist minister, at least, but still, there was only so much blasphemy he could take at once,” said Lucas. “Let’s put the film in. Anyone want more?” he asked. “I’m still hungry.”

 

Lucas went back to the kitchen for more food, set out the sweets, and watched as the three women maneuvered furniture so they could all see the television. “Also, anyone need anything else to drink?”

 

“I’d like a vodka tonic, please, Lucas,” said Ros.”

 

“Seconded,” said Jo.

 

“Coming right up,” he replied. After making the drinks, he turned around and saw Jo with her legs to her chest on the floor, leaning against the couch. Ruth was at one end of the couch while Ros had turned the armchair around again after putting the film into the DVD player. “You know you don’t need to sit on the floor, Jo. I have plenty of furniture,” he said, handing her the glass.

 

“I’m good actually.”

 

He shook his head. “Alright then.” Turning to Ruth he asked, “You settled?”

 

“Yes, quite content, thanks. Can I have one of those beers from the fridge? Anything will do.”

 

“Sure.” He made his way back to the kitchen and grabbed his plate and a new beer for her. After handing it to her, he shuffled himself into place at the other end of the couch, with Jo on the floor between them. “Everyone ready?” At their nods, Lucas pulled out the remote and hit the play button.

 

They all thoroughly enjoyed the movie, laughing uproariously at certain parts. They occasionally paused the film to refill drinks and grab sweets, until they had each consumed quite a bit of alcohol and then started on _Independence Day_.

 

Ruth began to giggle when she heard the noises the spaceships made, and then it showed the computer ‘virus’ she almost fell off the couch in laughter. “I’d love to know what Malcolm and Tariq think of this.”

 

“I’m sure we’d have to get them drunk and trick them to get them to even watch it. Probably the same with _Jurassic Park_ ,” said Ros.

 

“Oh, _Jurassic Park_! I loved that movie as a kid,” said Jo. “I was a big dino nut.”

 

“Most kids go through that phase,” said Ruth.

 

Jo shrugged. “True. I thought I was going to be a paleontologist. And now I work for MI5. Crazy.”

Ruth began yawning in between her giggles. “Ugh, I’m a lightweight. Lucas, can you call me a cab? I have to go home and feed the beasts.” At his blank look she said, “I have two cats. Not the smartest but I love ‘em.” She paused. “Harry kept them for me, but since I decided to stay he gave them back to me.”

 

“Sure Ruth, no problem. You could stay here if you like.”

 

“Nope. Can’t hardly sleep anywhere but my own bed, unfortunately.”

 

He went into the entryway to make the call, giving his address and mobile number to the dispatcher. “He’ll be here shortly.” Looking between Ros and Jo, he said, “What about the two of you? You’re welcome to stay as long as you like, though my own film library lacks comedies.”

 

“I’d like another drink, I think,” said Jo.

 

“Okay, then you’re staying a while longer. Ros?”

 

“Sure, I’ll stay too.” Her tone was as dry as it usually was. “I’ve no one waiting at home for me.”

 

Lucas could see Ruth bristle just slightly before his mobile rang. Literally saved by the bell. “Let me walk you out, Ruth,” he said after making sure it was the cab company and not Harry with a red alert. Walking her to the outside of his building and to the street, he said, “I hope you had a little bit of a good time?”

 

“Yes, I did, Lucas. Don’t pay attention to me and Ros, we like to push each other’s buttons.”

 

“Alright, well. Be safe,” he said.

 

Before getting into the cab she quickly grabbed him and hugged him. Hugged twice in one day? His emotions wouldn’t know what to do with themselves. “Thank you, Lucas. For sharing yourself with us.” And with that statement she got into the cab and shut the door.

 

Had that particular goal been that obvious? He hoped not as he made his way back up to the flat. Upon entering, he saw that Jo and Ros had each gotten another drink and Jo was now on the couch where Ruth had been sitting.

 

“At the risk of sounding maudlin,” said Ros, “I want to drink to colleagues.”

 

“And friends,” said Jo.

 

Lucas poured himself another drink before joining Jo on the couch. “To colleagues and friends.”

 

They all drank and then sat in silence for some long moments. It was broken by Jo as she asked, “Did you see Adam yesterday?”

 

Lucas could see Ros stiffen just slightly. “Yes I did. He couldn’t really help me with my wizarding problem so we ended up just small talking most of the time. He asked about you both.” If it was possible Ros’s body became even more taut. “Just wanted to make sure you were both doing well.”

 

At that, Ros’s shoulders released some tension. She avoided looking at Lucas as she said, “Oh, Lucas, you should probably know that before she left Section D the first time, Ruth and Harry had a thing for each other.”

 

“Ros!” Jo admonished.

 

“He needs to know, Jo,” said Ros.

 

“Okay,” he said, drawling out the word. “Why do I need to know that?”

 

“Because sometimes he had a blind spot where she is concerned. It’s part of the reason we clash so much.”

 

“Okay,” he said again. “Good to know.”

 

Jo looked back and forth between them both before seeming to come to a decision. “I slept with Ben. Before he joined MI5. I miss him.” She paused. “And I know everyone thinks I slept with Zaf and I didn’t, but I wanted to.”

 

“Well, alright, then,” said Lucas. A night of revelations really hadn’t been on his agenda. He noticed Jo looking pointedly at Ros before her gaze swung back to Lucas. “Jo, I can make up the guest room for you. I think you might have drunk too much.”

 

“Probably,” she mumbled. “Sorry.”

 

“It’s okay. Come on.” He led her to the guest bedroom, small though it was, and tucked away, almost closet-like, in a corner of the most open flat. “Call if you need anything,” he said.

 

“Can you forget what I just said?” she asked, looking everywhere but at him.

 

“Sure,” Lucas replied. “Don’t have a clue. What were we talking about?” he smiled as he spoke to her.

 

She giggled at him. “Thanks, Lucas.” She put her arms around him for another hug.

 

“Sleep well,” he said, not quite wriggling out of her grasp. He closed the door and went back to the couch.

 

“I certainly hope you aren’t waiting for a great revelation from me,” said Ros.

 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Ros,” he said. “Another drink?”

 

“Yes, please,” she said, holding out her glass.

 

He returned to the kitchen and got them both tumblers of vodka. When he handed it back to her, he said, “Thanks for coming, Ros. I hope it wasn’t too onerous on you.” He smirked at her.

 

“Oh shut it, Lucas.” She sipped the vodka. She paused and Lucas could read some hesitation in her body language.

 

“He wants to see you, you know. Adam.” Ros just stared at him. “He specifically asked about you.”

 

“That doesn’t mean anything. We’re colleagues,” she said, folding her legs beneath her in the chair and maneuvering her body to face away from Lucas.

 

He held up his hands. “You have to do what’s best for you, of course. But he would love if you visited. I know you two have history, it’s obvious. But I’ll leave it alone.”

 

When she remained silent, he could easily tell that she was essentially ignoring him. “Anyways,” he said, “I’ll make up the couch for you, unless you want my bed and I’ll sleep on the couch.”

 

“Have you lost the plot, Lucas? You are much too tall to sleep on the sofa. Don’t be ridiculous.”

 

“Pardon me,” he said, smiling at her. “Let me know if you need anything. I didn’t even think about the flat being so open. It won’t bother you to be sleeping in the same room, will it?” Her look could have frozen a volcano. He started to pull pillows and blankets out of a storage ottoman.

 

“If I was so concerned I would head home. It’s fine. Thank you.”

 

“I apologize in advance if I have a nightmare. I’m not expecting one, but they are unpredictable.”

 

“Don’t worry, Lucas. At least tomorrow is Sunday.”

 

He nodded. “Sleep well, Ros.”

 

He watched as she padded across the room to the bathroom. He quickly stripped into a pair of sleep pants and a loose shirt. Not quite what he usually wore to bed, but it would keep everything modest.

 

When Ros emerged from the bathroom she was wearing a tank top and a pair of boxers. “Don’t say a word,” she said to Lucas.

 

He mimed sealing his mouth shut and went into the bathroom himself. When he finished and came back out into the main flat, Ros was already curled up on the sofa in the blankets. He moved around the flat quietly, making sure the door was locked and turning off all the lights before he crawled into his own bed.


	13. Details, Details

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The party's aftermath, and Lucas starts to really think about Nightingale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll admit it, the Lucas inside my head is so full of angst he can hardly contain himself. However, there's a lot of other stuff going on. Don't be surprised if I eventually can't contain it and have to make this a series. :o)

The next morning the three of them were content to loll in bed until getting up became absolutely necessary. Lucas was pleased and pleasantly surprised at his lack of nightmares again. With the pastries he had picked up the day before, he was also prepared to offer a brunch with eggs and bacon, essentially the limit of his skills in the kitchen.

 

Lucas checked his phone and had a text from Ruth saying she had gotten home okay. His reply back to her was part apology (that he hadn’t gotten it last night), part gladness that all was well, and part happiness that she had been able to attend. In short, he had burbled. At least it had been via a text rather than in person. He wasn’t hung over, but he was _very_ relaxed. Probably the most relaxed he’d been since coming home to London.

 

Ros didn’t seem hung over, either, but Jo was a little worse for wear. She even looked a bit green still when she stumbled out of the guest bedroom. “Lucas? Please tell me you have tea,” said Jo.

 

“Of course.” Lucas immediately put the kettle on and turned back to her. “Are you alright?”

 

“Just a little hangover. Do you have any paracematol? That, some tea, a bit of food, and maybe a shower should help, thanks.”

 

Lucas nodded as he dug in his kitchen cabinet for the pill bottle.  Finding it, he shook out two pills into her hand. The kettle squealed and he made her a large mug of tea. “I hope you both slept alright,” he said.

 

Both women nodded. “Very well, thanks,” said Ros. She had dug in straightaway to the food. “I thoroughly enjoyed myself, Lucas. Thanks for hosting this. I haven’t laughed so much in a long time.”

 

“Neither have I,” he said, biting into a scone.

 

“Mind if I use your shower before I go?” asked Ros.

 

“’Course not. Whatever you need.”

 

She got up from the table, patted Jo on the shoulder, and grabbed her bag before making her way to the bathroom.

 

“I’m just going to sit here for awhile with my tea, if that is okay?” asked Jo.

 

“Fine with me. Do you need my conversation or would you prefer quiet?” Lucas asked as they heard the water start to run.

 

“Quiet might be better.”

 

“You mind if I take a gander at some of the files Ruth gave me? These Nightingale puzzle pieces bother me.”

 

She flapped her hand at him and closed her eyes. He smiled at her, though she couldn’t see it, before pulling the files, Potter’s debrief, the wizarding history, and a notebook out of his bag.

 

First on his lift was to text Potter and make sure everything was a go for their meet on Tuesday.

 

            _LN: Morning Harry. Wanted to let you know that I have your and Granger’s covers ready. Still up for meeting on Tuesday at noon at the Leaky Cauldron?_

 

Lucas began writing lists of what the potential plans could be from Nightingale if they wanted to bring about ‘a new world order,’ as the CIA informant had said to the Home Secretary. He started with large categories of potential events: nuclear warfare, biological warfare, destabilization through economics, food shortages, assassinations, and natural disaster. He shook his head and thought to himself, ‘what a list.’

 

“Lucas? Everything alright?”

 

He looked up at Ros’s voice and shrugged.  “Just doing some prep for my meeting with Potter on Tuesday.”

 

He watched as Ros continued to squeeze her short, blonde hair dry. She nodded at him before saying, “Jo, the shower is all yours.”

 

“Thanks, Ros.” She got up slowly from the table and made her way to the guest bedroom.

 

Lucas’s attention was pulled back to his list as Ros sat back at the table with him. “What are you working on?”

 

“Trying to figure out what ‘new world order’ might mean for Nightingale.”

 

“Let me see your list,” said Ros.

 

He pushed the notebook over to her. After reading through the list, she said, “You should add man-made disaster and general warfare.” She put her hand out for his pen. As he handed it to her, she continued, “Also, don’t forget zombies.”

 

He looked at her incredulously as she added to the list. “Hey, we didn’t know about wizards and magic. Maybe there’s a colony of zombie’s out there,” Ros said, a slight smirk on her face.

 

He shook his head at her. “Not funny.”

 

“I disagree.” She pushed the notebook back to him. “I’m off. Have a good rest of the day. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

“You need me to call a cab?”

 

“No, I’ll get the Tube.” He watched as she grabbed her bag to leave. “Thanks again, Lucas. I had a good time.”

 

“I’m glad,” he said.

 

He heard the door close behind her and went back to his files and lists. The current big news was the outbreak of swine flu worldwide. ‘But,” he thought, ‘there would have to be widespread, plague-like proportions for that to bring about a “new world order” by itself. It’s not enough.’ He shook his head again as he thought about Ros’s zombie addition.

 

Based on what Ruth had said, plus the data in her files and Potter’s earlier comments, Lucas was beginning to wonder if the inclusion of the wizarding world wasn’t just a feint. That it was a financial smokescreen to keep them ignorant of the primary purposes and targets of Nightingale. It was possible. Potter had said there was a lot of money in the wizarding world, and, if reading his debrief was any indication, wizards preferred to not get their hands dirty.

 

He pulled the wizarding history closer and flipped to the index to identify the fates of Harry’s Death Eater torturers. Antonin Dolohov was first and the book gave a death year of 2000. Without looking up the full entry, Lucas didn’t know if it was due to Voldemort’s defeat or not. The two Lestrange brothers and Bellatrix were next: the two men had death years of 2003, while Bellatrix’s dated to 2007. That was definitely something to examine at a later date.

 

Lucas was interrupted before he could lookup the fate of Lucius Malfoy. He heard the shower turn off and his mobile’s message alert at the same time. He smiled as he reached for the mobile.

 

            _HP: Glad to hear from you, Lucas. Tuesday at noon fine. Hermione will be with me. We will meet you for lunch at the Leaky Cauldron. Also let’s set this week for meeting with CIA._

 

Lucas nodded to himself. They should be able to learn their covers quickly as they weren’t elaborate and the two magic users should be able to play the role of ‘asset’ to Caulfield. 

 

“Lucas?” Jo’s voice prodded him out of his thoughts. “You look fairly lost in thought there.”

 

“Hope the shower helped.”

 

“Indeed,” she said. “I feel almost human.” Pausing, he watched as she made her way over to the kitchen and sat in the seat vacated by Ros. Her skin was pink and her hair still damp. “What are you working on?”

 

He told her and handed her the list and a pen. “Add whatever else you can think of,” he said.

 

“Hmmm.” She paused, clicking the pen’s retractable ballpoint tip. “What about a global communications system failure, something similar to what the Russians tried with the submarine?”

 

He nodded. “I forgot about that. If it could be done on a wider scale, it could certainly have a ‘new world order’ impact. Add it to the list.” He flipped through Ruth’s notes before saying, “I can’t tell if she didn’t use that particular search term, or if nothing or too much came up when she did the searches.”

 

“You should be able to tell,” said Jo. “Ruth is usually very thorough about those types of things. Or maybe it is in the research from Tariq. She might have delegated that to him or Malcolm.”

 

“Hmmmm.” Lucas’s tone was extremely noncommittal. “Perhaps.”

 

“Or may there were so many results it was difficult to list tem all.”

 

Lucas nodded again. “I’ll ask her tomorrow. I’m having a hard time thinking of scenarios that could occur, be manipulated, _and_ also have worldwide significance. And not also essentially cause the plant to completely descend into chaos. ‘New world order’ makes me think that anarchy is _not_ a goal.”

 

Jo sat and listened as he talked out his thoughts. “I think that you have a point there.” She paused. “Mind if I sit awhile and eat some more brunch?”

 

“Stay as long as you like. Nothing planned for the afternoon?”

 

“Nothing besides getting over my hangover,” she said. “I try not to plan too far in advance.”

 

Lucas laughed slightly, watching as Jo got up and put the kettle on again. He could hear it begin to boil as she moved down the counter to where he had spread out the pastries. She picked two and put them on a plate. She turned back to the kettle and Lucas retrieved his mobile, sending a quick text to Potter, affirming the location.

 

As Jo made herself another mug of tea, Lucas noted that it felt odd to have a woman in his kitchen. Or anyone, really, as he hadn’t really been up for entertaining for a long time. He flipped to a new page in the notebook. Here he started to list potential players for this global conspiracy. CIA meant Americans. China. FSB involvement meant Russians, and Lucas couldn’t discount the Indian connection after Harry Pearce’s kidnapping. A nuclear treat meant that Pakistan also had to be included, as well as Iran. At this point, in his opinion, the involvement of North Korea was a low possibility. ‘Agents from the west’ had been the words Darshavin used, and that couldn’t _just_ include the Americans. He added Britain and France to the list. And then he added the wizarding world along one side, which encompassed (in his mind) the wizarding governments of these respective countries he had listed, if they existed.

 

“What’s this list now?” Jo asked as she sat back at the table with her mug and plate.

 

“This list is the potential players. The people that are part of Nightingale must have some influence on the global scene or they couldn’t pull this off.”

 

Jo sat back in her chair with her hands gripping the mug tightly. “You’re right. So we can cross off some of the smaller groups, unless they are just part of the foot soldiers.”

 

“Exactly,” said Lucas. “We also have to put our own government on the list if we are talking nuclear powers.” He tapped the page with his finger.

 

She looked at him over the rim of the mug and looked ill. “That is…horrible.”

 

He shook his head. “I know, but I think that, under the circumstances, it has to be considered.”

 

“Oh, I know. That doesn’t mean I have to like it.” She paused. “Did you put Iran on there?” At his nod she continued. “You should probably put Israel on as well.”

 

He nodded. “What if it isn’t nuclear? Any other players you would add?”

 

He watched as she set the mug down before settling her chin on her hands. “This could all be financial and economic, too. In September there is the G20 Summit in Pittsburgh. A bunch of world leaders will be there.”

 

Lucas looked at her pointedly. “You have a point, but it feels wrong to me. I’m not saying you’re wrong,” he said, holding up his hand to cut off her protests. “Let’s say the CIA is behind this. The ringleader. I can’t imagine they want to have something occur on American soil where they wouldn’t get the be the primary investigator.”

 

“Hmmm. You’re right. The FBI would have jurisdiction, yes?”

 

“Or the Secret Service if it had to do with the President, I think,” said Lucas. “But you’re right as well, economics could be a factor. As much as the financiers try to spin it right now, we aren’t out of the woods yet on this latest banking crisis.”

 

At this, Jo stood up from the table, her chair making a desperate scraping sound along the floorboards. “Thanks for brunch and last night’s event. I had a great time.”

 

Coming around the table to face her, Lucas asked, “Do you want me to call you a cab? Don’t forget your bag.”

 

“No, I’ll get the Tube as well. I need the walk.”

 

“Just don’t run your feet bloody,” Lucas said.

 

Jo stopped dead as she had bent down to pick something off the floor. Rising slowly to her full height, she said, “Adam mentioned that?”

 

Lucas internally cursed his tongue. “Yeah, he did. Just to make sure you weren’t holding everything inside. I know I’m not the most approachable, but please talk to me rather than doing something so destructive to yourself.”

 

“I needed to clear my head.” The defensiveness that he had meant to bring out was chillingly obvious.

 

“I shouldn’t have said anything about it.”

 

At this, Jo shrugged her shoulders and then lifted her bag. “Thanks again, Lucas. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

He watched as she left the flat and he smacked himself in the face for his glibness.


	14. Meeting Hermione

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucas meets Hermione.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of this is repetitive, but it is for Lucas as well. We're moving the plot along, please stick with me.

Monday and Tuesday morning were a flurry of activity on the Grid. Lucas showed his lists to Harry Pearce and got a few more additions. He had regular assets to check in with as well, all over London. Some needed more handholding than others.

 

So he was perfectly ready to meet with Potter and Granger for lunch when Tuesday midday came around. He used his car to get to the pub again, accompanied only by a bag of file folders and research, as well as Potter’s debrief notebook to return to him.

 

Getting to the Leaky Cauldron was just as easy as before, and Lucas soon found himself sitting in a large booth with a glass of water. Not longer after he got settled, Potter emerged from the rear of the pub to join him.

 

“Hello, Lucas.”

 

“Harry. Where’s your friend?”

 

“She had some paperwork to finish, but she’ll be here soon.”

 

“Well, actually, it is helpful to have you on your own for a few moments.” Lucas reached into his bag and pulled out the notebook. He handed it to Harry. “I now completely understand why our bosses put us together for this and appreciate the trust you had in me in order to share it.”

 

Harry turned his whole body away from Lucas, ostensibly staring at the other customers and looking for Hermione. “You read it then.” It was a statement, not a question.

 

“Yes, I did.”

 

“Maybe you can tell me your opinion then, on a certain subject that I’ve thought quite a bit about since I read your dossier.” Harry paused, but Lucas wasn’t going to interrupt his thoughts. Harry turned his head back to look at him, and it was obvious from his facial expressions that something was bothering him.

 

“Which is worse, Lucas, in your opinion: to be tortured with or without a purpose or goal? Without means that you know it won’t stop until the torturers decided to stop, whereas if they have a goal in mind that means you are always trying to keep what they want a secret.”

 

Lucas closed his eyes for a moment and it was like being back with Darshavin: in his mind he could feel the electricity again in his limbs and hear himself scream. Opening them again, he said, looking straight at Harry’s eyes as he did so, “I don’t think we can judge another person’s struggle. You have less control if they just torture you because they can. However, if there is something they want to know, you can make yourself feel…guilty or blame yourself, because you could have stopped it if you had just given them the information they wanted. It is a hard, wrong experience to have had, in either case.” He _really_ didn’t want to talk about this.

 

Still looking at him, Lucas hoped Harry could read on his face that he wanted to leave the subject alone. Harry then said, “So what are the covers you have for us?”

 

Taken aback, it took Lucas a moment to reply, “Wouldn’t it be better to wait….”

 

“I’m here, sorry!”

 

Lucas looked up from the tabletop to see a lovely young woman looking back at him. Her hair was somewhere between a very dark blonde and a lovely brown color, pulled back from her face but still framing her deep, dark brown eyes. It was a bit curly and frizzy.

 

“Did you get us lunch, Harry?”

 

“I was waiting until you got here, ‘Mione.”

 

She sighed. “I’ll put in an order with Hannah, then.”

 

‘She’s like a whirlwind,’ thought Lucas. Apparently the hair was a clue to the young woman’s attitude. He hadn’t even said hello yet and she was already off again. “Is she always like that?”

 

“Yup. Wouldn’t have her any other way, though. Her quick thinking and no-nonsense attitude have gotten me out of a few scrapes,” Harry said.

 

They sat in silence until Granger returned to the table. She motioned for Harry to scoot further into the booth before sliding in. After getting settled herself, reminding Lucas a bit of a bird, she turned her attention to him. “Hermione Granger,” she said, putting out her hand to him.

 

He put out his own to grasp hers and was surprised at the warmth and strength he felt in her handshake. “Lucas North.”

 

She smiled at him. “Nice to finally meet you.”

 

He pushed away his discomfort with the fact that this lovely woman had compiled his dossier and knew things about him that he would prefer to forget. “Likewise. What did you order for us?”

 

“Stew and some sandwiches. Magic use eats up the calories. As soon as Hannah brings lunch, we’ll put up a privacy ward.” She paused. “Well, you’re certainly handsome enough to be a James Bond character, Mr. North.”

 

He smirked as he said, “Just Lucas, please. And I’m sure Harry told you that the Home Secretary is nowhere near as indulgent as M in the Bond films.”

 

“I notice you didn’t acknowledge the handsome comment.”

 

Harry smacked his forehead with his hand. “Did I mention to you that she essentially says whatever is on her mind?”

 

Lucas let out a chuff of laughter. “No, your forgot that, but thank you for the warning. I’ll keep it in mind for the future.” He reached into his bag again to pull out the files containing their covers. “These need not be a state secret, though I wouldn’t bandy them about.” He handed them each a file folder put together by Ruth. “I am assuming that you two can act like a married couple.”

 

They looked at each other and burst out laughing. “Most of the wizarding world thinks we’re together,” said Hermione. “Shouldn’t be difficult to convince people who don’t know us.”

 

“But you aren’t together?” asked Lucas.

 

“Noooo,” said Harry, dragging out the word. “We’re best friends. Even if people keep insisting a man and a woman can’t just be friends.”

 

“Which is ridiculous,” interjected Hermione.

 

Lucas held up his hands. “I agree. You needn’t convince me. It is certainly possible.”

 

Hermione winked at Lucas. “Not that Harry isn’t handsome as well.” Lucas could watch Harry blush at her teasing.

 

All conversation stopped as Hannah brought over their lunches. “Hello again, Sam.”

 

“Hello, Miss Hannah! Good to see you again. I am excited for lunch. Much better than the takeaway I usually live off.”

 

She smiled shyly at him. “Thank you. Enjoy.”

 

As Hannah walked away, Hermione poked Harry with a finger. “You’re better at warding.” To Lucas, she said, “Sam?”

 

Harry smiled at her and said, “Yes, I am better at warding. And don’t ask about Sam. It’s not important,” as he pulled out his wand. Lucas was surprised as he hadn’t seen where the wand had come from. “I have a holder on my forearm, but it is disillusioned so no one can see it.”

 

Lucas nodded as he thought to himself that he still had a lot to learn about the wizarding world. “Hermione, what has Harry told you about why we are meeting?”

 

She swallowed around a mouthful of stew before saying, “Not much. Apparently there is someone he wants to met, but it has to be as a Muggle?”

 

“Alright.” Lucas paused for a moment, then said, “Well, let’s see if I can get the whole story out and have it make some sense. Essentially, MI5 has gotten information that there is a group of people, potentially named Nightingale, with the stated purpose of creating, and I quote ‘a new world order,’ unquote. Parts of the American CIA are definitely involved, as well as the Chinese and the Russians. It’s unknown if this is an official line or only rogue groups. Harry offered to meet my CIA contact; I suspect she may be a part of Nightingale. There is also a possibility that wizards or a wizarding group are a part of the conspiracy in one way or another.”

 

Hermione looked at him in astonishment mutating toward horror, her eyes wide and mouth parted ever so slightly. “Are you serious?”

 

“Yes. I’m currently working on trying to figure out the major players as well as what could bring about this new world order. Not the most uplifting of brainstorming activities.” He paused. “I thought you and Harry were also researching this?”

 

“He didn’t tell me it was part of some global bloody conspiracy! _Merlin!_ ” She punched Harry in the arm, not very lightly, and he pulled away from her slightly. “You should have told me!”

 

“I didn’t want to bias your research,” said Harry.

 

“Oh, that is a good line. I’m going to use it on our researcher at Section D,” said Lucas. “I don’t _know_ that the wizarding world is involved, hence my asking Harry to research. I don’t know if any wizarding group would actively work with Muggles.”

 

She looked at him contemplatively, tapping a finger on her lips before reaching across the table for a sandwich. “Well, it’s not like we haven’t heard that sort of rhetoric in the wizarding world before, of course, as I’m sure Harry told you.” At Lucas’s nod, she continued, “We haven’t had any, well, I guess you could call them ‘terrorist incidents’ on our end lately.” She paused again, then said, “What about on your end.”

 

“Nothing yet. Just whispers and innuendo. As I said, I’m trying to make up a list of general potential events.”

 

“Oh,” Harry interjected. “I have that list of individuals from the Ministry that interact with the Muggle government for you, and who they liaise with, if I could find out without giving the game away.” He handed Lucas several sheets of paper.

 

“Why do you want us to meet the CIA liaison?” asked Hermione.

 

“Hey, it was all Harry’s idea. Don’t blame me,” said Lucas.

 

“You’re the one that said that the Home Secretary ‘uncovered’ this through a CIA contact,” said Harry.

 

“Yes, that’s true. I don’t know if she is involved, but something _is_ going on with her. She tried to bug my flat, and she said that the CIA thinks I am a double agent because my FSB interrogator showed up in London.” Lucas could feel his face become blank even as he heard Hermione’s small gasp. “Also, did he tell you that there was a meeting in Basel, Switzerland? And the CIA head in Britain died recently. It’s unclear if it was a suicide or homicide.”

 

“I did mention to Kingsley Shacklebolt that I was working with you and asked if he had anything that he wanted to pass on. He sends his greetings to Mr. Carter, of course, and asked how he was doing. He gave no indication of knowing anything about a wider, wizarding-Muggle conspiracy,” said Harry.

 

“The other potential with that ‘joint’ conspiracy is that the wizarding world is just the money source. Essentially, let the Muggles blow themselves up and then go on from the aftermath. In that case, we wouldn’t be looking for a cause that wizards necessarily needed to agree with, just one that would take their money,” said Lucas as he took more bites of the stew. It really was good, and as enjoyable as the fish and chips from his party. However, he was not used to explaining his thought processes to so many people, and especially not one at a time over a period of days. It was getting tiring and boring.

 

Hermione looked at him. “The second scenario sounds more plausible to me, at least on the British end. I’m sure Harry has told you that the British wizardry is extremely isolationist.”

 

“What about other countries with large wizarding populations?” asked Lucas.

 

Harry and Hermione looked at each other before Hermione spoke. “That’s America, France, Russia, India, Egypt, Brazil, and, to a lesser extent, Italy and South Africa. There are wizarding enclaves in Eastern Europe, but I can’t see them being able to gather the resources needed to even participate in, much less run, such a conspiracy.” Pausing, Lucas watched as her eyes almost seemed to spark as she said, “Oh, also Japan. China is as standoffish as the Muggle country. America is, as always, the wild card. They totally do their own thing.”

 

“You said you hadn’t met the American wizarding liaison, right, Harry?” asked Lucas.

 

“Right. In fact, they haven’t sent one to Britain in years. Not sure if that is because we are isolationist or they are.”

 

Hermione let out a short sniff. “The last one was a stuck up snob.” She looked straight at Lucas before saying, “And you know that is bad coming from a Brit.” Lucas laughed. “Let me see the lists,” she said.

 

Lucas handed them to her, saying, “Two of my colleagues also added to them. Unless we have an active op, most of Section D is working on this in some form.”

 

Hermione leaned back against the wall of the booth and looked at the papers. Lucas could tell when she reached the end of the ‘events’ list as her eyebrows flew up and she said, “Seriously, zombies? You lot watch too many movies.”

 

“That was added by my colleague, Ros Myers. She made the point that since we hadn’t known about wizards and magic, how could be know that there wasn’t a colony of zombies out there.” Lucas could see Harry’s wince as he said that. “What?” he asked.

 

“Well, they aren’t quite _zombies_ , but magic came make something called ‘inferi.’ But it’s really, _really_ dark magic,” said Harry.

 

“I don’t think anyone is making inferi, Harry,” said Hermione.

 

“I hope not,” he mumbled.

 

“Really, we need more information. I can speculate all day, but it doesn’t get us closer to figure out what is going on,” said Lucas. He pulled another file out of his bag. “This is the research completed by Section D. Ruth, our researcher, said that there are some odd holes that may be filled by wizarding players.”

 

“Let me make a copies of your notes, too.” Harry put his hand flat out over the pages and Lucas watched in amazement as a second copy of his pages appeared. Harry handed the originals back to Lucas as well as a file folder. “Here is the research we did. We’ll see if you information matches well or not.”

 

“That spell would have been _very_ handy at uni,” said Lucas.

 

“Unfortunately, a lot of wizarding books have the anti-copy spell on them,” said Hermione. “But otherwise, yes, very handy.”

 

“Le me text the CIA liaison to set up a meet while I sit here with you.” As he typed, Lucas deliberately pushed the buttons that he thought might induce Caulfield to a meet.

 

            _LN: Hi Sarah. How is the CIA? Have an asset I need you to meet. Any free time this week?_

 

“So, while we are waiting for a reply, what can you tell me about yourself, Hermione. I would give you details about me, but I fear you know them all already,” Lucas said, his mouth pinching into a tight line against his wishes.

 

She looked a bit startled by the question. “Oh, well. I usually start out with being a Muggle-born witch.”

 

“Which means you came from a non-magical family?”

 

She nodded. “Yes, at least in the last four generations. None of my living family had ever heard of magic. My parents are both dentists.” Her face brightened a bit as she said, “I’d love to be able to integrate the two worlds more.”

 

Harry began shaking his dead. “’Mione, don’t drag Lucas into your crusade; he’s busy enough. At least right now. Wait between global conspiracies to try for reform.”

 

She pouted at him. “Fine.” Lucas could tell it was a long-standing argument between them. “Let’s see, what else?”

 

“You took more NEWTs at Hogwarts that anyone, ever, and went straight into the Ministry,” said Harry. “And helped defeat Voldemort.”

 

“That’s quite the impressive resume,” said Lucas, leaning back in the booth.

 

“Yes, well, it is mostly Harry’s fault. I had to keep him out of trouble.”

 

“Oiy!” Harry looked affronted. “Trouble just finds me!”

 

Hermione rolled her eyes. “I love books: old, new, anything. I read everything I could get my hands on about the wizarding world when I first learned I was a witch.” She paused and stared at Lucas. “So this CIA liaison. Do you know any details about her?”

 

Lucas made himself even more comfortable by stretching his legs out under the table. “Not really. She’s American, but her accent is all twisted up like she lived lots of places as a kid. Maybe a military or State Department kid. She’s a second to the head of the CIA in Britain, and, as I mentioned, that gentleman just died.”

 

“I saw that on the news,” said Hermione, twisting herself around in the booth, trying to find a comfy spot. “I watch the Muggle news even if I think much of the ‘entertainment’ is fairly ridiculous.”

 

“Otherwise, I don’t really know anything about her, and the Americans tend to keep that sort of information to themselves. She hates Ros Myers, our Section chief, and wants to sleep with me.”

 

Harry coughed as he had been taking a sip of water at Lucas’s words. “I beg your pardon.”

 

“Oh, it was so obvious. She came on super strong and I’m not that desperate,” said Lucas.

 

Hermione stifled a giggle. “Is this a new contact?”

 

“Yes. The previous liaison worked directly with Harry Pearce, head of Section D. She was recently promoted.” Just then, Lucas’s phone vibrated.

 

            _SC: I have time tomorrow afternoon at 3:30. Does that work?_

 

Reading the text aloud, Lucas asked, “Is that enough time to learn your covers?”

 

Hermione and Harry both nodded. “Do you have any particular information you want us to pass along?”

 

“I think Ruth included it in your files.” He paused. “I’d like to keep this away from Thames House, Grosvenor Square, and the Leaky Cauldron.” Lucas used his phone to find a suitable pub to meet at in the middle of the afternoon. When Harry and Hermione both nodded at his choice, he pulled up his text messages.

 

            _LN: Sounds good. You know the Albany pub at Great Portland Street? Let’s meet there._

 

They waited only a few moments before an affirmative text came back from Caulfield.


	15. What a Tangled Web We Weave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Hermione meet Sarah Caulfield, and Lucas learns some disturbing facts about Nightingale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would not be a good spy or a good terrorist. I am flying by the seat of my pants trying to figure out actions for Nightingale. Please message me if you have ideas

Until Harry and Hermione had a chance to look through the Section D research and meet Sarah Caulfield, Lucas tried to put thoughts of Nightingale and global conspiracies out of his mind. Bureaucratic paperwork, however, never died. He spent most of the next morning so occupied.  Harry Pearce and Ros checked in with him at lunch, and Lucas then found himself at loose ends for the afternoon. Instead of sitting at his desk and fretting, he decided to take in some London air via the roof at Thames House. Later on, he made his way through the city to meet Harry, Hermione, and Caulfield at the pub. He still couldn’t even call her Sarah in his head.

 

Reaching the pub early, he immediately went inside, found a quiet booth, and installed a listening device provided by Tariq under the table lip, far enough back so no one’s leg would accidentally knock it. He nursed a pint of beer while he waited, and hoped the wizarding contingent would show before Caulfield.

 

His luck didn’t hold out as he spied Caulfield’s arrival just before 3:30. He stood so she could see him, then sprawled back into the booth. As she approached, he realized his error in picking a booth rather than a table: he wouldn’t be able to watch her and the others as she was going to sit next to him.

 

As she slid into the booth, she said, “Lucas.” Her voice was fairly cold as she pushed her hand at him.

 

Taking her hand in his, he replied, “Hello, Sarah,” aware that he needed to keep her happy and sweet so they could get as much information from her as possible. “How are you and the CIA? I imagine everything must be chaotic right now. Appreciate you taking the time for me and my assets.”

 

She hesitated and looked briefly at the floor before turning to meet his eyes again. “Yes, thank you. I’m…well, not fine, but getting there. It was all so sudden and we’re all still reeling.”

 

“Did Walker leave a note?” Lucas asked, trying to suss her out.

 

 “He didn’t have to; he was under investigation and I was planning on meeting with him that evening, to confront him with the evidence. I never got a chance. But he knew something was wrong, obviously,” said Caulfield.

 

Inside his head, Lucas was screaming ‘Liar!’ “I can just imagine how difficult it would be to have to investigate your superior. I would prefer to remain ignorant of Sir Harry’s Pearce’s dirt, myself.” Her body language was super-controlled, as if she was trying to keep emotions buried. But her words didn’t match her expressions: they were distant and rang false to him.

 

Lucas watched as her demeanor changed from serious to somewhat flirty and his stomach dropped. “Are you still angry with me?”

 

He refrained from rolling his eyes. He was having to keep himself from doing that a lot lately. “Well, I’m still not pleased, to say the least. You remember trying to bug my flat?”

 

“I was ordered to do it, Lucas.”

 

He shook his head, noting Harry and Hermione coming through the door. He waved at them as his whispered, “I don’t rightly care.” With Caulfield next to him, he couldn’t maneuver himself out of the booth to greet them.

 

Hermione slid into the booth first and faced Lucas, while Harry sat opposite Caulfield. Harry spoke first as he put his hand out. “Afternoon. Daniel James. This is my partner, Melissa. Good to meet you.”

 

Caulfield responded to them both rather coldly, saying hello and quickly brushing her fingers with theirs in greeting. Her following words continued in a cold tone, “What can I do for you?”

 

“Well,” said Harry. “We own a small café and bookshop in North London. We aren’t affiliated with anyone, you see.”

 

“It’s a used bookshop,” Hermione piped in.

 

“Yeah, so we get all sorts in there. It’s an out of the way place.” Here Harry paused before saying, “Can I buy everyone a round?”

 

Before Lucas could reply, Caulfield shook her head and said, “Please, continue.”

 

“Welllll,” Harry said again, drawing out the word, “as I said, we get all sorts. And lately we are getting a lot of young American men.”

 

Caulfield put out a hand. “How do you know they are American?”

 

Here Hermione spoke again, “I asked. I did some traveling there a few years ago and was able to use that as a way to strike up a conversation. They had interesting accents, and when I asked where they were from specifically, well, they wouldn’t answer.”

 

Caulfield stared at them. “That’s hardly a reason….”

 

“Wait,” said Harry. “There’s more. They started coming in regularly, a group of four men. Believe me, neither the book selection nor the food would give them a reason to come in so much.”

 

“And I heard them talking about oil. Specifically, America’s dependency on it. I’ll admit my interest being piqued due to our recent issues with our energy needs and consumption,” said Hermione. “They didn’t seem like they were speaking academically, either. Specific pipeline locations were being discussed.”

 

At this Caulfield’s face did begin to show worry. “So why contact Lucas?”

 

“We know each other from Uni, and I just thought I would mention it to him. He said he would either pass the information along or find someone in the American government we could speak to.”

 

“It’s hard to know whether to take it seriously, but we thought we had to tell _someone_ ,” said Hermione, reaching for Caulfield’s hand to pat it. Granger was good at being so fucking _earnest_ about it. “I mean, what if we didn’t and something terrible happened?”

 

Lucas could see Caulfield’s jaw become even more taut when Hermione’s hand touched hers. “Sarah, even if these particular gentlemen aren’t doing anything, I thought I would let you know so you could pass it on.”

 

“Of course, thank you, Lucas.” She pulled her hand away from Hermione’s and then turned her head to face him. “Can I speak with you for a moment?”

 

At his nod, she made her excuses and slid out of the booth. Raising his eyebrows to Harry and Hermione, Lucas gave a slight shake of his head as he followed her.

 

As they began to get within a few steps of the pub’s front door, Caulfield turned to Lucas and poked him in the shoulder, her face fierce and full of anger. “What are you playing at? If you believe that there is a group of rogue Americans meeting in some crazy bookshop in North London you are more compromised than I thought! You can’t really believe this!”

 

Lucas put his hands out in front of him and took a step back from her. “Look, I’ve known Dan a long time. He wouldn’t lie to me.”

 

Her hair whipped around her as she shook her head. “Is this a joke to get back at me? It’s not funny.”

 

“Look, Sarah,” he paused a few moments before continuing, “I don’t know what the problem is. I just bring the information to the analysts and defuse the bombs.” He tried a smirk on her and it seemed to help defuse her anger a bit.

 

“Keep me updated with them, then,” she said. Instead of continuing in that vein, she put her hand on his shoulder; he had to resist shaking it off. “Lucas, the man at your apartment….”

 

“You don’t need to worry about him,” said Lucas. “He’s dead, or as close as one can be when in the hands of the FSB.”

 

“Are you serious?” Her fingers grew tighter in the fabric of his shirt.

 

“Yes, we handed him to the FSB. He tried to sell them out to us, so I’m sure they didn’t let him live long.”

 

Her grip loosened, and he had to refrain from wanting to shake off the feel of her fingers like a dog shedding water. “Oh.” She said nothing for a moment, then quickly, almost stuttering, said, “I’ve got to go. Let me know if you have anything else from either of them, “ here she cocked her head at Harry and Hermione,” or from anyone else.” Then she was out the door.

 

Making his way back to the booth, Lucas reached under the table for the recorder, put it on the table, and turned it off. “She’s gone. I don’t know if it would be better to stay, knowing surveillance may be in place, or if it would look odd to leave and meet elsewhere.”

 

“Probably easier to stay, even if, maybe even _especially_ if, someone is watching,” said Harry.

 

Lucas nodded. “Alright. What do you think?”

 

Harry and Hermione looked at each other before Hermione sighed, saying, “Other than the fact that I pretty much hated her on sight?”

 

Lucas laughed, thought it came out a short _chuff_. “Okay.”

 

“Yes, well,” said Hermione. “She’s not at all subtle. How did she get to be a field agent?”

 

Shrugging, he said, “I don’t know.”

 

“She’s a part of this conspiracy, Lucas,” said Harry.

 

“I agree, but I’m wondering why you think so.”

 

“I read it in her mind. She has no mental shielding, which is not surprising for a Muggle. I cast the spell while she was talking to you and, while her thoughts may be a jumble, they all dealt directly with aspects of this Nightingale conspiracy you are following,” said Harry.

 

“Why did you think it confirmed, Lucas?” asked Hermione.

 

“It was the way she asked about Darshavin being in my apartment and her relief at our handing him over to the FSB. Darshavin knew about the meeting in Basel. He might even have been a low-level player in Nightingale and,” here Lucas paused, thinking back to his latest interactions with his interrogator, “I think he knew her. Recognized her, at least. If he thought she was my girlfriend, which is what I told him, then his ‘be careful who you trust’ comment makes much more sense. There hasn’t been any indication that anyone in Section D has a connection with Nightingale.”

 

“Oh, she knew him,” said Harry. “He was small potatoes in the conspiracy. Essentially an errand and messenger boy. Caulfield is in it up to her neck, but she’s a follower, not a leader. I couldn’t get any details on who she reports to.” He hesitated for a brief moment before saying, “I’m pretty sure they slept together in Basel.”

 

Hermione suppressed a shudder. “Ewww. She’s such a cold fish. Why would anyone want to sleep with her?”

 

Harry elbowed her. “Not nice, Hermione.” She just gave him a _hmmph_ sound in reply.

 

“What about a wizarding element?” asked Lucas, _not_ wanting to get into Caulfield’s sexual proclivities. At all.

 

“All I got from her is that there is vast amounts of money being thrown into this project. But Hermione may have some information on that for you.” Harry paused. “Before she gets to that, I have one other thing to tell you.”

 

Lucas nodded. “Alright.”

 

Harry took a deep breath. “She killed Samuel Walker. He was getting too close to discovering her. He asked for surveillance from the Basel airport.”

 

Lucas could feel the blood drain out of his face. “Are you serious?”

 

“Yes. She threw him over the balcony of that building and didn’t blink an eye, Lucas.”

 

Lucas rubbed his forehead with his hand. “Jesus.” Taking a deep breath, he motioned at Hermione. “Okay. Tell me the rest.”

 

“Well, as of right now we can’t really confirm anything. What we can say is that there appears to be two groups working somewhat in concert. The first, an in my opinion the less serious, is a group of healers and potion makers working on various wizard-only biological ‘defenses.’ You can see how that could easily be manipulated.” At Lucas’s nod she continued.

 

“The second group funds the first. It also appears to fund a number of research and charitable organizations, both Muggle and wizarding. This second group is made up of many families of distinction in the wizarding world, old, pureblood money. The biggest contributor is the Malfoy family.” At this, Hermione put her hand over Harry’s on the table. “I don’t know if you know, Lucas, but Lucius Malfoy was never tried as a Death Eater in connection with Voldemort, and he didn’t die as many of Voldemort’s marked followers did when the Dark Lord was destroyed.”

 

“I think that most of this second group’s funding is legitimate,” said Harry. “But Malfoy is manipulating a portion of the money to fund part of Nightingale.”

 

“And the goal? I mean, why work with Muggles?” asked Lucas.

 

“Oh, he is _persona non grata_ in the wizarding world,” said Hermione. “The family performs good works through his wife, Narcissa, his son Draco, and Draco’s wife Astoria, _née_ Greengrass.”

 

“I think the goal, as you suspected, is to let the Muggles get rid of themselves, then use these groups, and to be in place when the shite hits the fan and be able to swoop in and pick up the pieces,” said Harry.

 

“But no wizarding-specific rhetoric we need to look for?” asked Lucas.

 

Both shook their heads.

 

“Well, shite. That doesn’t help us narrow down anything then,” said Lucas. “But I’ll get Ruth to pull the surveillance from the Basel airport; that was a good idea Walker had. Also if she can find the hotel, any footage they have.” He paused. “So Malfoy is essentially using this group to launder money?”

 

“Yes,” said Hermione.

 

“Is there a group getting more funds that the others at this point in time, or historically?”

 

She pulled her notes out of her bag. Perusing them, she then said, “If so, I can’t say see it here in these numbers.”

 

“Alright,” said Lucas. “Did you get anything else out of her mind?” He paused, then said, “That sounds very odd to say. Anyways, you said you couldn’t see anyone she reported to, but what about someone she meets with?”

 

“Harry.” Hermione pulled at his arm before saying, “Did you bring your copy of that list of wizards working with the Muggle government?” At Harry’s nod, she said, “I need to see it.” Harry began digging through his own bag and Lucas turned his gaze to her. “I tried the spell as well. I’m not as proficient as Harry, but I got some images of emails with names. I’ll see if any of them look familiar.” When Harry handed her the pages, she set them on the table, began running her finger down the list of names, and mumbling to herself.

 

Lucas and Harry left her to it, as Harry began to describe some of the other people Caulfield had met with. Their discussions primarily circulated around whether the people Caulfield interacted with were ‘legitimate’ CIA or Nightingale.

 

They were interrupted by a triumphant “Got it!” from Hermione. She tapped the paper with a perfectly manicured fingernail – and Lucas wanted to give himself a slap upside the head for noticing such a thing. “Stephen McMillan is a first cousin of Ernie; Ernie went to Hogwarts with us, Lucas.” At Lucas’s nod, she continued. “Stephen is on the list of those people with contacts to the Muggle British government. And he emailed Caulfield about a meet. There is no reason for him to meet with her: his contact is with the Chancellor of the Exchequer.”

 

“Shit,” said Lucas. “He’s in contact with the money.”

 

“We don’t know that it means anything,” cautioned Harry.

 

“Who is the contact with MI6?” asked Lucas. He needed to make sure none of this intelligence got back to those people that were being investigated.

 

“Nymphadora Tonks directly. She’s the Head Auror and my immediate supervisor. I can assure you that she isn’t involved with this conspiracy.”

 

Lucas held his right hand out in supplication. “I believe you. I do.” Lucas paused and put his chin on his hand. “So what does this mean? Caulfield is communicating with an individual in the wizarding world that has a connection with the Chancellor. Caulfield is not a prime mover, but she has access to the prime movers?”

 

“Yes. I’m looking back over my memories of what I saw during the spell, and she has also had contact with Malfoy,” said Hermione.

 

Lucas watched Harry’s green eyes turn hard and his face flush. “Okay, so she’s the Muggle-wizarding connection? How? She’s not a squib?” he asked. When they both shook their heads, Lucas continued, “How did she meet McMillan and Malfoy? It’s not like any of them would simply approach each other on the street. So there is another entity in play. Does McMillan or Malfoy have relationships with anyone in the Muggle world or with someone who straddles the line?”

 

“I don’t know. We will have to research that,” said Hermione.

 

“That individual will likely be one of our prime movers,” said Lucas. “You will probably have better luck with a narrow pool that meets that criteria. I will have Ruth look for anyone that has crossed paths with both Caulfield and Darshavin.”

 

“I still don’t know why anyone would sleep with such a cold fish,” said Hermione. At Lucas’s wince, she said, “Don’t sleep with her, Lucas.”

 

“Didn’t I tell you I’m not that desperate? Plus, learning she slept with Darshavin pretty much made my balls crawl up into my body. I don’t particularly want the leavings of my torturer.” Lucas knew his whole statement was crass but couldn’t help it: the very thought made him nearly ill. The more he learned about her, the more Caulfield made his skin crawl. And he didn’t particularly like the feeling.

 

Lucas looked at his watch; it read half past five. If he tried to go back to the Grid now, Ruth would likely be gone. Research couldn’t be started until the next day. Brushing his hand through his hair, he then placed his hands flat on the table. “I suggest we all have at least one drink so the proprietor doesn’t think we’re a bunch of cheapskates, and them I’m off home.”

 

“Good idea, except for the home part. Can’t I convince you to come back with me into the wizarding world yet?” asked Harry.

 

“Harry.” Hermione’s voice was simultaneously a singsong and a rebuke. “Five-thirty on a Wednesday is the _worst_ time to show off Diagon Alley.”

 

Harry shrugged and began to get out of the booth. “She’s right, of course. What can I get you, Lucas? I’ll buy this round.”

 

“You sure?” asked Lucas. “I have plenty,” he said, reaching for his wallet.

 

Harry put up a hand as he stood at the head of the table. “No worries. But what can I get you.”

 

“Stout. Whatever’s on tap.”

 

“I’ll get you a cider, Hermione?”

 

“Yes, please.” As Harry made his way over to the bar, Hermione said, “I hate heavy drinks.”

 

“I do want to come with one or both of you at some point into the wizarding world,” said Lucas. “I’m still not quite sure what it means for me that I’m descended from magical people. I mean, I’m obviously not magical like you are.”

 

“No, but you aren’t quite a Squib, either. Not enough magic to have training to use a wand, but you could use magical objects. Items that have been enchanted for magical users.”

 

“Really?” Lucas was sure his eyebrows must have met his hairline. “That is fascinating.” He hesitated a moment before saying, “This is going to sound very rude, but it is something I have been wondering for awhile. An unsurprising topic, given my occupation. How self-sufficient is the wizarding world?”

 

“Ah, you just hit the nail on the head, Lucas.” Hermione paused as Harry set their three drinks on the table and pushed Lucas’s and hers closer to them. “The wizarding world probably relies on Muggles for sixty percent of its food and raw materials.”

 

Harry looked like he wanted to smash his head on the table. “Now you’ve done it. She’ll never shut up about this.”

 

Hermione poked him again as Lucas ran his hand over his jaw, feeling the stubble of the day scratch over his fingertips. “Sixty percent. I had no idea the number was that high.”

 

“Of course, I’m taking about Britain, not the other countries with a large magical population,” said Hermione.

 

“Again, excuse my ignorance, but if this wizarding group is funding terrorists with the idea of letting the Muggles essentially exterminate themselves, isn’t that just going to harm the wizarding world in the end? How will they remain…solvent, for lack of a better word?” asked Lucas. “It seems short-sighted to me.”

 

“You’re right,” said Harry. “I don’t really know what their end game is, or if they realize that the reality of the outcome might not match their imagination.”


	16. Nightingale Strikes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rewriting of episode 8.3. Remember what I said about Lucas and angst? It is HIGH here.

Back on the Grid the day following his meet with Caulfield, Harry, and Hermione, Lucas called all of Section D into the conference room to share all the new information.

 

When everyone had sat around the conference table, including himself, Lucas began speaking. “Yesterday’s meeting was very fruitful. Yes, there is a group called Nightingale. Yes, Sarah Caulfield is a part of it. And,” he looked at Harry Pearce, “she killed Samuel Walker.”

 

Harry Pearce closed his eyes briefly and sat back in his chair. “She told you this?”

 

Lucas shook his head. “Of course not. Harry Potter saw it in her mind. Not admissible in court, perhaps, but enough to have up keep looking at her as part of the conspiracy.”

 

His colleagues, even Ros to a certain extent, all looked shocked. “Really, Lucas? That seems…extreme,” said Jo.

 

“Apparently Walker had ordered surveillance photos from the Basel airport and her presence at the meeting was about to be uncovered.” Lucas hesitated briefly, then said, “She also knew Darshavin, which makes me think the Sudanese plot with Darshavin was part of this as well.”

 

The silence in the room was deafening before Harry Pearce spoke. “What else, Lucas?”

 

“The group is being funded, to a certain extent, by a wizarding group with a rogue leader who is using it to launder money. There’s a wizard that has had contact with Caulfield who works with someone connected to the Chancellor, so there is a secondary money connection there. We are going to begin looking for a person that straddles the two worlds that has relationships with those two individuals, as well as people who had contact with both Caulfield and Darshavin.”

 

“What about the purpose?” asked Ros.

 

Lucas shook his head and put his hands flat on the table. “Still unclear. There is no indication as to what the endgame may be.”

 

“ _Hmph._ ” Harry Pearce’s grunt had a tone of extreme discontentment. “Lucas, you continue to run point on this. Everyone else, out. I need to talk to Lucas.”

 

Lucas sat at a corner of the table, and both Jo and Ros passed him as they left and touched his shoulder in a show of support. While not unexpected from Jo, the act from Ros was very surprising. Lucas wouldn’t let himself think about as he quickly moved his focus to Sir Harry.

 

“She killed Walker?”

 

Lucas nodded. “According to Potter, she threw him over the balcony of that building and didn’t blink an eye.”

 

His boss let out a groan. “This is not good. We need to be able to work with the CIA, and their liaison is a rogue murderer.” The older man paused before saying, “Is there really no indication of a potential target or demonstration or _something_ that this group is going to coordinate?”

 

“None, Harry. Not even an inkling. Harry and Hermione are going to see if more money is being sent to a particular cause, but if the wizards are simply using it for laundering money, the cause doesn’t matter. Same if they just want us to blow ourselves up.”

 

Sir Harry then looked at him very intently for some long moments, and Lucas was loath to break the silence. “How sure are you about Potter, Lucas? Can you trust him or is he playing you?”

 

Lucas heard the unspoken ‘like Darshavin’ at the end of his boss’s question like a slap in the face. “I’ll admit that I can’t read his mind, but he seems legitimate and sincere to me.” Lucas’s focus moved to a spot on the gray wall of the conference room, not wanting to see whatever emotions might play out on Sir Harry’s face. Would the man never trust his judgment again?

 

“I’m not doubting you, Lucas. I just had to ask.” At Lucas’s nod, he continued, “Keep me updated on what you find.”

 

As Lucas replied with, “Of course,” Sir Harry got up from the table and left the room. But Lucas couldn’t get himself to follow. Instead, he sat with his eyes closed for a few moments as he tried to convince himself to go back out onto the Grid and get back to work.

 

***

 

After the debrief regarding what Harry and Hermione had uncovered from Caulfield’s mind, the next weeks were quiet for Lucas. Research continued into Nightingale, but there were no major crises and he didn’t have to deal with Caulfield. If he hadn’t been loath to deal with her before, knowing she was a player in Nightingale just made his loathing worse. He _really_ didn’t like her.

 

The mood on the Grid was subdued during that same period. Not only had there been no Nightingale incidents, but there had even been limited goings-on at the Grid with the other terrorism players. Then again, Britain had been trying to lay low during the current worldwide issues.  The most exciting event had been providing limited security for the memorial unveiling in Hyde Park, commemorating the 2005 attacks in London. Lucas had actually volunteered (and was subsequently refused) to stay on the Grid for that, as he had felt odd attending in any form, even as security.

 

While he was doing much better with his nightmares, Lucas had begun to notice new things about himself as the weeks progressed. The physicality of the tortures he had suffered were beginning to diminish. While he could still have occasional flashbacks and they could include reminders of the physical stimulus, he otherwise no longer felt the aftermath in his shoulders, back, and legs, even when it rained for weeks straight in London. The elimination of these final pains meant he could, generally, put the memories of how he had received them out of his mind as well. That, plus an increase in his physical training now that he was in less pain, and a general sense of trying to take better care of himself, also helped.

 

One element he had not anticipated was the return of his libido. He’d known that there hadn’t been a physical problem, even taking into account the tortures he had suffered. It was, instead, a mental one. Even going undercover in a number of strip clubs and brothels in multiple countries had not seemed to help. At the time he had been dealing with Darshavin, it had seemed as yet another part of himself that had been taken, and Lucas wanted to beat the man to a pulp.

 

He certainly hadn't been prepared for his sexual desire to respond to a bushy-haired witch, though! _A literal witch!_ Who could have known? When he thought about it, Lucas wanted to smack himself silly, or get Ros to do it (though she would ask why, at least after hitting him). While it was good to know that he could still feel sexual attraction at all (and Hermione was a very pretty woman), Lucas didn’t know what to do about it. He consoled himself with the fact that as soon as Nightingale was taken care of, it would be extremely unlikely that he would see her again. Even seeing Harry would probably be rare. Lucas didn’t like that idea either. He enjoyed Potter’s company, at least so far.

 

He had been sitting at his desk on the Grid at 10 in the morning a few weeks after the meet when all these thoughts finally coalesced. Jo interrupted his musings by asking for a second opinion on the intelligence from one of her assets.

 

While so engaged, all the phones, both mobile and land lines, began ringing. That was never a good sign. Sir Harry was out of the office, and no one seemed to know where he was, so Ros took charge. While indicating for them all to leave the other phones alone, she picked up her extension, saying, “Ros Myers.”

 

Lucas watched as her mouth grew grimmer and tighter by the second. She slammed down the received and said, “All hands on deck. There is a situation with the Bendorf Group. Tariq and Malcolm, pull up,” she used a post-it to write down something, “this website. A group of terrorists are putting the members of the Bendorf Group on trial for, essentially, human rights violations. Jo, contact Harry and get him in here ASAP. The Home Secretary is livid. They’re broadcasting it live. Ruth, pull the files on the members.” As the rest jumped to follow her instructions, she said to Lucas, simply, “This is not good.”

 

That was the understatement of the year, Lucas wanted to quip. The Bendorf Group was essentially a secret society of billionaires that had a large impact on the world’s economies. It included eight people, of various nationalities, each of whom had their fingers in all sorts of projects, economies, and natural resources. “What do we know?”

 

“Very little right now,” said Ros. “The entire leadership is there, along with their entourages and security. Approximately thirty people. It is unknown where they were meeting, but suspected it is here in England. There were indications of movement at Ashenden’s home, so they may be there.” Her focus moved to Tariq and Malcolm. “If they are at Ashenden’s I want plans to that house. Lucas, be ready to go if we think they’re there.”

 

“They are,” said Ruth as she came up to them with a number of folders in her hands. “The seven other Group members all entered the country last night or this morning via private jets.”

 

“Jo, have you gotten in contact with Harry?” Jo’s head shook in a negative. “Crap,” said Ros. “Alright, Lucas, get ready to go to Ashenden’s. Take Jo, and I’ll keep trying to get in touch with Harry.”

 

“Should we take CO19?” asked Jo.

 

“Wait until we get a floor plan and a thermal scan from Tariq,” said Ros.

 

“Ros….” Tariq’s voice was quiet but concerned, and they all turned to look at him. “They killed him.”

 

“What?” Jo, Ros, and Lucas all spoke at the same time.

 

“Who?” asked Ros.

 

“Mickelson. The first one they put on trial. I didn’t think it would happen so quickly.”

 

They all looked at each other and the phones started ringing again. Ros again answered the one at her desk. “Ros Myers speaking.” A pause. “Yes, Home Secretary. We’re looking for him. I was just about to send someone to the location….” Lucas watched her face grow pale, and her mouth dropped open a bit. “I see, sir. Please, just give us a little time….”

 

Lucas could tell she had been interrupted again and he watched as she put her hand over her mouth in anxious worry, a nervous tic she rarely showed.

 

“I understand, sir. We will keep in contact.” She set down the phone received gently, almost reverently. She looked over the group and said, “They aren’t going to give us enough time to find them and get them out. The information uncovered by the terrorists is too damaging, particularly to the CIA, China, and Russia. The Home Secretary ahs authorized a storming of the house and wherever they are in it.”

 

Lucas gasped. “That will kill them all.”

 

Ros nodded.

 

“Ros, they’ve wired the building with explosives,” said Malcolm. “The thermal scan just came in.”

 

“I _know_ ,” said Ros, more forcefully than before.

 

“Do we not even have time to try to talk to them See if they will stand down voluntarily?” asked Jo.

 

“Malcolm, Tariq, do we have the plans yet?” asked Lucas.

 

“Yes,” they answered in unison. “They’re in a panic room/bunker underground,” said Malcolm.

 

“There must be a communication line for phones and the like. Can you connect to it?” He turned back to Ros. “How long do we have before CO19 storms the place?”

 

“A few hours. It will take them awhile to get the blueprints and develop a plan for the storming. The Home Secretary only just gave the order to get out there.  Jo, I want you to go. Lucas, stay here.  Jo, stay away from CO19. You will _not_ be anywhere near that building when they storm it.”

 

Jo turned, grabbed her jacket, and went to the elevator.

 

“That’s…not a lot of time,” said Lucas. Ros just glared at him. “Yes, I know that’s obvious. How is it going with the phone connection?” he asked, turning to Malcolm and Tariq.

 

“A few more minutes,” said Tariq.

 

“Speed it up,” said Ros. “Have we been able to identify them?”

 

“Yes,” said Malcolm. “The leader is Finn Lambert. Ruth has all the research.” He waved his hand absently as he went back to typing with Tariq.

 

“Well Ruth?” asked Ros. “And succinctly, please. We need to be ready to go when Malcolm and Tariq are.”

 

“Alright. Finn Lambert, 32. French origin. His parents were involved with a French left-wing terror group called _Action Directe_. He’s been going to protests since he was in nappies. Last year he was arrested for vandalizing the property of a disgraced banker, but there nothing official since then.”

 

“Unofficially?” asked Lucas.

 

“You know I have been following Nightingale money, and where Darshavin and the Sudanese got the support for their little demonstration?” said Ruth. “This is the same. Russian FSB involvement, definitely. Also, it is interesting about the CIA because we know there is a supporting element from them as well.”

 

“So again, the endgame is? What?” asked Lucas.

 

“With the Bendorf Group out of the picture, most of Africa is going to plummeted into civil war,” murmured Ruth. “Between them, they or their connected companies own 65% of the continents’ natural resources. That’s not including Asia, the Middle East, or South America. Or the governments that could be destabilized by their actions.”

 

“Fuck,” said Lucas.

 

“Ros? Phone is up and we’ve got security video footage in addition to what is being streamed online. No audio, though,” said Tariq.

 

“Where the bloody hell is Harry,” asked Ruth.

 

Ros just shook her head before pushing her phone toward Lucas. “You talk to them. They won’t respect a female negotiator.”

 

Lucas shook his head but picked up the received anyways. He listened to the ringing three, four, five times before a click indicated it had been picked up. He could see Finn Lambert on the security feed.

 

“My name is Simon Rose. I’m authorized to speak to you on behalf of the British government. What do you want?” Lucas inwardly cringed at his bluntness.

 

“How do you know we want anything?”

 

“I’d say the dead man on the floor and the innocent people you’re holding indicate it’s not a slumber party.”

 

“You would call them innocent? Did you watch Mickelson’s trial?”

 

“It has taken me awhile to catch up,” admitted Lucas.

 

“He was not innocent! Tell me, have you ever heard of a village in Somalia called Maruandjama?” asked Lambert.

 

Lucas watched as Lambert turned and faced the camera for the security feed, indicating he knew exactly what Lucas was seeing. “No, I haven’t.”

 

“That’s a shame. Because a year ago, someone in this room decided that their lives were worth less than it cost to build a waste treatment plant at his refinery up river from it. Do you call _that_ innocent?”

 

“I’m sure it is more complicated than that,” Lucas replied.

 

“No! It is not!” Lucas watched again as Lambert paced in a small circle around the table where the phone sat. “They control 90 percent of Africa’s wealth and for forty years they have been raping it.”

 

“Why don’t you tell me what you want?”

 

“I want nothing from you or your government.”

 

Lucas could see that Lambert was about to slam down the phone. He had to try and keep him on the line, had to try to convince him to surrender himself. “Don’t hang up, Mr. Lambert.” Lucas observed Lambert stopping dead in his pacing. “If you do not stop this, you and your compatriots are going to die. Steps have already been taken to come after you. Is it not better to get your message out rather than be killed and have your message lost? Killing these people won’t help; they still have backers and corporations to keep doing their same old tricks.”

 

The pause from the other end of the phone stretched for minutes. Lucas could almost hear Lambert’s heartbeat, it was so silent in both the bunker and the Grid. “You’re lying.”

 

Lucas sighed. “Why would I lie? Killing them won’t help,” said Lucas.

 

“It will bring attention to their crimes!” shouted Lambert.

 

“For how long?” asked Lucas. He didn’t dare look at a clock to see how long he had been speaking. It could have been minutes or hours. “You know the general public is fickle, Mr. Lambert. If it doesn’t impact them directly, they don’t care.” Lucas paused as Ruth shoved a piece of paper under his nose. He looked at her and she nodded.

 

“They will listen because we are right.”

 

“Listen, perhaps. But will they do anything? Probably not,” said Lucas. He took a deep breath and said, “Mr. Lambert, where did you get the money for this endeavor? Explosives are expensive.”

 

“That doesn’t matter,” said Lambert.

 

“Would it matter if I told you funds came from not only one of Mr. Ashenden’s companies, but also from Mr. Tarasovich’s and Mr. Mickelson’s companies?”

 

“Now I know you are lying. You are trying to turn me against my benefactors.”

 

“I’m not trying to do that. The money went through several different companies and individuals before getting to you. Your immediate benefactors may not even have known the original source. Mr. Lambert, all I’m trying to do is make sure no one else is injured or killed. I need you to help me help you.”

 

“I don’t need your help, and these people,” he almost spat out the word, “don’t deserve it!” said Lambert.

 

“Mr. Lambert, I want to make sure that you have the full story and I have the full story. I want to understand why you are doing this.” Ruth passed Lucas another message, this time letting him know that Jo had gotten to the estate. As expected, she had indicated that there was only one way into and out of the bunker. What they had realized, even with the plans to the panic room, was that it was only accessible by elevator. That would make storming it by CO19 much more problematic. CO19 wasn’t there yet, however.

 

“Mr. Lambert, I understand you are frustrated with the people and their companies. I know that the little bit of good that they do does not negate the damage they inflict. What do you want to come out of this event?”

 

There was a short pause from Lambert. “I want them to be tried and found guilty.”

 

“And executed?”

 

“Yes! They deserve it!” Lambert yelled.

 

“What happens after that?” asked Lucas. “They’re all dead. What happens next? Will their companies continue? Or will they collapse? Will anarchy be the next step? What do you want to happen?”

 

There was silence on the other end of the phone. Lucas watched Lambert as he continued to pace. Lucas let the silence stretch for almost five minutes, giving the other man the space to think if needed.  It was obvious that the death of the Bendorf Group was Lambert’s main goal.

 

“I understand your frustration, Mr. Lambert, I do,” said Lucas. “I want to find a way to expose their crimes and have it make an impact. Please, don’t let them become martyrs.”

 

Again, silence reigned on Lambert’s part. Lucas had essentially run out of negotiating tactics to use: usually the hostages weren’t the point in a hostage-taking, but merely the means to an end. With the hostages being the entire reason for this whole cock-up, Lucas was really at a loss as to how to end this without more bloodshed. There was literally nothing else he knew to say to Lambert. But he knew he would keep trying, for as long as he could.

 

The minutes stretched. Lambert appeared to be taking Lucas’s words to heart as Lucas watched the security feed. His pacing had slowed, ever so slightly, as he looked back and forth between his companions and the hostages. He heard Lambert say, not to him but one of the other terrorists, “Shut down the feed,” and the online streaming website went dark.

 

Lucas heard Tariq’s squawk of indignation but ignored it. If Lambert was willing to turn off the feed, maybe he had actually made a point with the man.

 

Out of the corner of his eye, Lucas saw Harry Pearce stride onto the Grid, his face stretched into a grin until he took in the rest of the agents. He started to come toward Lucas, but Ruth met him instead and pushed Harry into his office and closed the door.

 

Lucas was content to wait for Lambert, or so he thought. Watching the security feed, however, he became more concerned. “Mr. Lambert?” Lucas asked. Receiving no reply, he said, “Finn?” He paused again, hoping to get some sort of answer. Ros passed him another paper, letting him know that CO19 had arrived at the estate and was setting up to storm it. “Mr. Lambert, I’m not trying to rush you. I know you need time to process, but I’m afraid that the force that has been dispatched to storm the bunker has arrived. Please, end this so you don’t die.”

 

There was silence still on the end of the line, until Lucas heard, “I’m not afraid of death.” The words were low and breathy, but had an edge of steel.

 

“Of course you aren’t afraid. That isn’t what this is about,” said Lucas. “They won’t give you a chance to have another trial, Mr. Lambert. They will kill you first, and all this work will be naught.” Lucas ran his hand through his hair. He felt as if he had been speaking for hours, and even if he truly _didn’t_ care about Finn Lambert or the members of the Bendorf Group, that didn’t mean that he wanted to fail in trying to save them, either.

 

Lucas had been sitting at Ros’s desk for the entire time. As he had continued to speak with lambert he had slumped further and further into her chair, mimicking his mental and emotional exhaustion. He closed his eyes a moment, listening to the silence on the other end of the phone until he felt a hand on his shoulder. Blinking quickly, he took in the site of Ruth with Harry behind her. “CO19 is ready to go in. You have maybe two minutes,” said Ruth.

 

Lucas sighed. “Finn. Your time is up. I need you to surrender now, or everyone in that bunker will die.”

 

He could hear everyone in the room with him take a deep breath, waiting for Lambert’s response. Their breaths mingled with his own and those of Lambert that he could still hear through the phone. “Finn?”

 

Lucas heard a gulp of air before the word came through the received. “No.” He heard and watched Lambert slam down the receiver and reach for a small, dark box.

 

Lucas jumped up from the desk and began yelling. “Fuck, he’s going to blow them all up. Get everyone away!” It almost felt like an out-of-body experience. Lucas could hear himself yelling, but didn’t really recognize it as himself. “Get them away. Tell me Jo is away from the house!”

 

He felt a hand grab him and Ros pulled him to look at her. “Jo is alright. She is far away from the house.” He needed that physical contact to release him from what had quickly been becoming close to a panic attack.

 

Lucas then heard Ruth’s gasp. He turned to the footage, which had gone to static. Harry, on his mobile, said, “CO19 is reporting an explosion. It doesn’t seem to have damaged the house, but they felt the ground shake.”

 

He sat back in Ros’s chair, his head in his hands. He really didn’t know how to process this. Lucas felt like his head was full of buzzing insects. The static blocked everything else. He recovered slowly, but enough to hear Harry say, “This is unfortunate. He could have provided quite a bit of intelligence.”

 

Lucas stared at him, this man who, before Russia, had been a mentor and near father-figure. What had changed? Lucas knew that Russia had changed major aspects of his personality, but e still felt the need, even at 37, for a father-figure. To hear Harry’s first concern be for intelligence and not for the state of his agent was disheartening.

 

The next voice to cut through the static was Ruth’s. “CO19 has reached the bunker. The elevator shaft was blown and they were able to utilize that. They are reporting that everyone in the bunker is dead: a total of thirty-five including Lambert and four other terrorists, plus the Bendorf Group, their entourages, and security.”

 

Thirty-five people. Lucas thought that it wasn’t such a large number. He tried to remind himself that not long ago he had saved upwards of three thousand when he dealt with Darshavin to get the disarm code for the bomb in London. He had had moments of not being able to save people before: Ben, Dean Mitchell, Maria Korachevsky, even Marlin and Connie James. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. He glanced at his watch, noting that the entire ordeal had taken just over six hours and it was a quarter past four.

 

Getting up, he said, “I need food, tea, and air, not necessarily in that order. I’ll be back.” He grabbed his jacket and quickly made his way to the elevator.

 

Lucas distantly heard Harry’s voice calling his name, but didn’t, _couldn’t_ acknowledge it. He had to get off the Grid, even as he knew he should stay and debrief. He reminded himself that he hadn’t been alone and the entire conversation with Lambert had been recorded. So really, no, they didn’t need him to stay.

 

He walked for a while, not stopping for food or tea as he had said he would. It wasn’t until he noticed that he had somehow wandered to Charing Cross Road and was very near the Leaky Cauldron that he stopped. Hoping to himself that Hannah was working, Lucas made his way inside the dimly lit pub. The Leaky Cauldron also added an extra layer of anonymity: no one from Section D would come looking for him here. He went to the bar and sat quietly, waiting his turn.

 

When Hannah Abbot’s attention turned towards him, her smile became a bit larger and she moved quickly. “Hello, Sam.”

 

“Afternoon. Is it possible to get some dinner? I skipped lunch.”

 

“Of course!” She sounded affronted that he would even ask. “I have some of that stew you liked before.”

 

“Perfect.” He paused for a moment before saying, “I could use an extremely intoxicating drink, as well. What do you recommend?”

 

She looked taken aback for a moment before reaching under the bar. “Ogden’s finest firewhiskey.”

 

Remembering that Harry had mentioned the drink during the cock-up with Darshavin, Lucas nodded. “I’ll have that please. A double.”

 

Her eyes widened. “If you skipped lunch, would you like food first?”

 

He shook his head. “No, I’d like to get drunk as quickly as possible. I’ve had a terrible day.”

 

Hannah nodded as she poured the drink and then pushed it across the bar to him. To Lucas’s credit, he did sip it rather than throwing back the whole drink, but the glass was empty by the time Hannah came back with his food. He tried to smile at her as he said thank you, and then asked for another double of the firewhiskey. Her eyes widened even larger this time, but she poured the drink for him. She watched nearby as Lucas tucked into the food and the drink, still close enough for him to see her. When she finally walked away, he let out a breath and concentrated on the food and drink, and tried to forget the fucked-up day.

 

As he finished his stew and drank the second, and then the third, firewhiskey, Lucas could feel himself becoming warm and pliant. Not quite drunk off his arse, as he had a good tolerance for alcohol, but quite tipsy. He still couldn’t get the events of the day out of his head, though.

 

His situational awareness was still however, as he noticed someone behind him for a minute before feeling a hand fall onto his right shoulder. He whipped around on the barstool, ready to fight until he saw Harry Potter’s face. “Harry?”

 

“Lucas. Come on. Let me take you to my place.”

 

“How did you know I was here?” Lucas allowed himself to be pulled off the stool and lead into the back part of the pub. “I need to pay my tab,” he said.

 

“I took care of it,” said Harry “Hannah contacted me and let me know that you were here drinking doubles of firewhiskey. I’m impressed.”

 

“Good stuff,” said Lucas. “Smooth.” He paused, and Potter didn’t fill the silence. “Shitty day. People died. Couldn’t stop it. Tried, though. Enough to feel like a failure.” He wasn’t quite slurring his words, but Lucas knew he wasn’t as coherent as he might wish. “Sorry about this. I wandered the city for a while and just ended up here.”

 

“You must really like Hannah’s cooking,” said Harry. They reached what looked to Lucas like a solid brick wall. Lucas watched Harry pull out his wand and tap a pattern onto the ricks. He let out a soft gasp as he watched the brick fold up into themselves. He let Harry pull him through the resulting opening like a child.

 

“I have a flat not far from here,” said Harry. “Come on.”

 

Lucas looked around and saw it was dark. Glancing at his watch he saw the time was nearly 10. How long had been wandering around London and drinking in the pub? He wanted to smack himself. This was seriously stupid behavior, and yet, he couldn’t being himself to care yet. The pain of the day was too fresh.

 

He allowed Harry to maneuver him through the streets of Diagon Alley, though Lucas wasn’t really paying attention, until they reached a small apartment building. Not bothering with keys or anything of the like, Harry pulled the door open and went straight in, pulling Lucas along and making sure they had skin-to-skin contact. “No security?” asked Lucas.

 

“I’m keyed to the wards. I was touching you and they can read my intent,” said Harry.

 

The words themselves made sense to Lucas, but currently the understanding was not going to happen, so he nodded as he followed Harry up two flights of stairs to the flat. He balked a little at the doorway and asked quickly, “Hermione…. Granger doesn’t live with you, does she?”

 

Harry shook his head and said, “Nooooo. Why?”

 

Lucas turned his head away from Harry and mumbled, “I don’t want her to see me like this. I don’t really want anyone to see me like this. Being stupid.”

 

Harry said nothing in reply, just continued to pull Lucas into the flat. Harry deposited him on the sofa and said, “Give me your mobile.”

 

Gamely, Lucas handed it over before he leaned back into the sofa and closed his eyes. “Sorry about this. Hannah shouldn’t have bothered you.”

 

“It’s no bother, Lucas. I’m glad she did.”

 

He could hear Harry typing on his mobile, but couldn’t bring himself to care about the topic or the recipient. He just didn’t want to think, really. If he sat and thought about today and the past few weeks, he would have said this reaction, or something like it, was an unexpected aftermath of stress. For the first time in a long while, Lucas realized he didn’t want to be rational or controlled, at least for a little while. He wanted to throw things.

 

He heard his mobile text alert go off as Harry began to speak. “I’ve let Ros know where you are and that you are ok. They were about to ping your mobile’s GPS signal.” Lucas just snorted, his eyes still closed. “You want to tell me what’s going on? Or I can grab my bottle of Ogden’s and you can continue to get pissed.”

 

“Just a minor mental breakdown. Nothing to be concerned about,” quipped Lucas. “The past few months have been pretty shitty. I can handle, I know I can,” Lucas said. He opened his eyes and looked straight into Harry’s green orbs. “It’s just a small setback. Today was bad: I was on the phone with a hostage-taker/terrorist for over five hours and in the end he blew up the hostages, himself, and his fellow terrorists. It has been a long time since my failure has been that epic.”

 

“I see,” said Harry. He got up and went to the kitchen. Lucas could hear, but not see, Harry rummaging in the cabinets. He came back with two tumblers and the aforementioned bottle of firewhiskey. “You shouldn’t drink alone, Lucas,” he said, sitting in the chair opposite the sofa. Harry poured the drink for both of them before saying, “You aren’t responsible for that man’s actions, Lucas. I know you know that,” he said, putting up a hand to stall Lucas’s protests. “But sometimes we need to hear it from another person.”

 

“I also feel like…Harry doesn’t trust me,” said Lucas. “Ros was in charge today and gave me the phone and…. I just feel as if I’m still playing catch up.” He grabbed his tumbler and downed the rest of the firewhiskey, finally understanding the name as it seemed to burn a line down into his stomach.

 

Harry snorted. “You are playing catch up, Lucas.” At that, Lucas nearly bolted off the sofa. “Stop. I’m not going to bullshit you. You spent eight years in the Russian prison system, Lucas. It hasn’t even been a year. I know you’ve told yourself this, but here is someone else telling you to give yourself a break” Lucas sat back on the sofa again. “Personally, I’m surprised you are as well adjusted as you are. You are going to have days like this. I know I still do.” Harry paused and looked straight into Lucas’s eyes, imitating Lucas’s actions earlier. “You are a good agent. You can’t save the whole world. And, if Hermione _were_ here, she’s remind you that not everything is about you.” Harry ended with a smirk.

 

With those words, Harry poured Lucas another drink before returning the bottle to the kitchen. Coming back out to Lucas, he gently pulled him off the couch. “Sit in the chair a moment.” As Lucas did so, he watched Harry turn the sofa into a large double bed, complete with thick linens and piles of pillows, with a flick of his wand. “I told Ros you would stay here tonight and that, while you might be late, I’d get you back to Thames House tomorrow morning.”

 

“Alright,” said Lucas. “Thank you. I don’t really know what else to say.”

 

“You don’t need to say anything, Lucas. Just know that there are people around who want to help you.” Harry paused. “Now, I can tell you some very funny Hogwarts stories if you like.”

 

“Bedtime stories, Harry?” Lucas was sure his smile was closer to a smirk.

 

“Whatever works. Let me tell you about my first real adventure with Hermione. It started on Halloween with a troll….”


	17. The Unfortunately Victorious

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I beg your pardon for the lack of updates. I've been working on this awhile and life has been interfering. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Reminder, my "beta" is my iPhone so feel free point out inconsistencies and "WTF"s.

The next day started quite epically when Lucas woke up with a hangover like nothing he’d ever felt before. While nothing close to seventeen straight days of Russian torture, it was certainly the worst he’d ever done to himself. Upon waking on the sofa bed, his first task was to find the toilet to be sick. He heard Harry come down the stairs and enter the bath behind him.

 

“Firewhiskey is nearly as bad the second day,” Harry quipped.

 

Lucas could generally only let out small groans, his eyes closed against any light. “Just put me out of my misery,” he pleaded.

 

“Nope, sorry.” Harry was _much_ too chipper too early in the morning. “Here, I have something to help.”

 

Without opening his eyes, Lucas lifted his left hand to take whatever Harry had brought him. He felt a small vial, no more than the length of his palm, being trust into his hand. “That’s a hangover potion. I have a pain one for you to take after that.”

 

Lucas immediately downed the potion. Lifting his head, he finally opened his eyes and looked at Harry. “Ugh. It tastes like old socks.”

 

“Be glad you don’t have to take Polyjuice. It’s widely described as tasting like goblin piss,” said Harry. He handed Lucas the second vial, then leaned back against the doorjamb to watch.

 

Lucas closed his eyes in bliss. The potion provided nearly immediate relief from the band of marching trolls that insisted on drums and cymbals going off behind his eyelids. “Oh, that’s lovely,” he said, almost with a purr in his voice.

 

He could hear Harry’s laughter behind him in the doorway. “Yes, well, one of those ‘lucky you aren’t a Muggle’ things. You can get drunk on wizarding liquor, but you can also use our remedies. You’re welcome to use the shower; I’ll make breakfast before I get you back to Thames House.”

 

A shower sounded close to heaven just then. Lucas heard Harry’s footsteps down the hall and set himself to cleaning up. There was nothing unusual or ‘non-Muggle’ in the bath, though when he finished his shower he noticed the towel’s temperature: almost hot, as if it had been on a warmer like a fancy hotel.

 

Because this little jaunt had been unplanned, Lucas had expected to either put on his day-old clothes or borrow some of Harry’s. The former would have been quite distasteful, and the latter fairly impossible, seeing as Harry, at five feet nine inches tall, was nearly five inches shorter than him and quite skinny. Instead, however, he found a bag of his own things set outside the bathroom door.

 

Lucas almost felt normal as he made his way into Harry’s kitchen. “Thanks for getting my clothes. How did you get into my place, by the way?” he asked, settling in at the table.

 

“Ah, well. I apparated straight into your flat. I looked at the address on your license. Didn’t even need to borrow your keys.” Harry didn’t look up, continuing to stir eggs in the pan and fry sausages.

 

“I see. Should I be concerned about wizards popping, excuse me, _apparating_ , into my flat?”

 

“I don’t think so, Lucas; you aren’t a problem for the wizarding side of this conspiracy yet.” Two pieces of toast popped up in the toaster. Harry grabbed one in each hand and put them onto plates. He plated the eggs and then placed three sausages on each plate as well. He slid one dish in front of Lucas before saying, “Coffee or tea?”

 

“Tea, please.”

 

Harry instantly handed him a mug of what looked like a very strong black tea. “Thanks. This is beyond the call of duty,” said Lucas.

 

Harry just shook his head. “We’re friends, Lucas. Or at least, I’d like to be.”

 

Lucas nodded. “Me, too.”

 

They ate in silence until both men were full. “That was very good, Harry, thank you again. I wish I could cook half that well.”

 

“Yes, well, I started young.”

 

Lucas didn’t reply to that, instead saying, “Did I fall asleep to a story about a … troll?” His voice indicated his skepticism.

 

“Yes, I had only just started telling Hogwarts stories and you dropped like a stone.”

 

“My apologies.”

 

“No, Lucas, no apologies necessary. That was the whole point. You didn’t say very much about what happened yesterday: did it have to do with Nightingale or was this a different terrorist group?”

 

Lucas put his hands on his face and rubbed at the stubble there. “Both? The terrorist’s aims were, ostensibly, for a completely different cause. However, he was being funded by someone who had insider access to the companies of the men he was killing. It was quite the cock-up. I was on the phone with him the whole time and then left afterward. It might be that even more has been found out since yesterday.” Lucas looked at the clock. “Is it seriously 10 am?”

 

Harry nodded. “I sent a message to my boss that I would be with you this morning. So I’ll go with you to Thames House. Just in case this had wider implications.”

 

“That’s entirely possible. The terrorist and the entire Bendorf Group were killed. The Bendorf Group are,” here Lucas stuttered, “ _were_ a group of eight men and women with a great amount of influence, particularly in the economies, of numerous countries in Africa, Asia, and the Middle East. It appears that Nightingale did have a role in this, as it did with Darshavin and his rogue Sudanese trying to blow up a building in central London not long ago.”

 

“And now I’m definitely coming with you. Something major is going on, Lucas.”

 

“I agree, but we still can’t quite get all of the pieces to work together and decide what the endgame is. If it’s economic destabilization, then the elimination of the Bendorf Group is a good step. Also, the first murder of a Bendorf Group member was broadcast over the Internet, so anyone and everyone knows at least a little of America’s dirty laundry. Particularly the CIA’s dirty laundry.”

 

“Well, that is quite the cock-up,” said Harry.

 

“Yeah,” Lucas murmured and then sighed. “He wasn’t wrong, you know.”

 

“Who?”

 

“The terrorist. His name was Finn Lambert and he wanted the members of the Bendorf Group tried for human rights violations. Putting money before people. It was difficult to listen and not be moved by his arguments, even just a little. Even when he was screaming at me in anger.” He paused, sipping at his tea. “It didn’t help that Harry didn’t seem to care about the fact that I spent six hours trying to talk Lambert off the ledge. His first words were disappointment that we had lost the opportunity for new intelligence.”

 

Harry made a visible wince with his shoulders. “Ouch.”

 

“Yeah.” Lucas looked around the small kitchen, taking in his surroundings for the first time. “No fridge?”

 

“Oh,” said Harry. “The cabinets are spelled. No need for a fridge. Really, I have a house elf so I don’t need to cook, but it relaxes me. I’ll show you everything later on. Come on, we need to go. Ready to experience something new?”

 

At this Lucas smirked. “Oh?”

 

“How’s the hangover?” Harry smirked right back at him.

 

“Gone,” Lucas said slowly.

 

“Up to trying some apparition with me? You have just enough magic for me to take you with me. Or we can go back to the Leaky Cauldron and catch a cab.”

 

Lucas was speechless for a moment. “Will it hurt?”

 

“No,” Harry drawled. “But it might be uncomfortable.”

 

“I’d love to try it, but maybe the morning after a hangover isn’t the best idea? Probably should also thank Hannah. At least leave her a note if she isn’t at work right now,” said Lucas.

 

Harry sighed. “Spoilsport. Next time I’m either apparating you or we’re going to go by broom.”

 

“Isn’t broom travel somewhat…stereotypical?” Lucas asked as he rose from the table to gather his things.

 

“Hmm, it is, isn’t it?” said Harry. “You can use the bag I brought your clothes in. At least you be able to see a little more of the Alley than you could last night.” After letting Lucas pack, Harry led him back down the stairs of the apartment building.

 

Lucas again noticed the lack of keys and other obvious security. “I do remember you telling me about wards and the like last night. Does that work for all wizards?”

 

“Yes,” said Harry as they walked the streets of Diagon Alley. “Much of magic is intent-based, so that is a good base for a lot of our shielding and warding. Some people, especially those that work for the Ministry, include other measures as well. But the basis of it still starts in intent. A good example is when I was explaining to a witch about having the sign your Official Secrets Act. She didn’t understand how it prevented the telling of secrets, that is an oath without the physical power to punish immediately.”

 

“Fascinating. Would punishment be the first step?” asked Lucas.

 

“No, there are usually levels of deterrents first, depending on the severity of the oath or secret. For example, there is a spell called the _Fidelius_ charm. It is used specifically to keep secrets. Normally, there is one Secret Keeper, and it is usually applied to keep locations of people secure. You can see how that would be helpful?” At Lucas’s nod, Harry continued. “You can add a clause into the charm to punish the Secret Keeper if he or she tells the secret.” Harry paused and he looked away from Lucas. “That’s what my parents should have done. But they couldn’t fathom that one of their friends would betray them to the enemy.”

 

Lucas said nothing in reply to this, just waited for Harry to continue as they walked through the Alley. Instead he allowed himself to take in the sights in all the shops. He at first had been skeptical when Harry mentioned flying on a broom, but when they passed _Quality Quidditch Supplies_ he couldn’t deny it. He made a mental note to actually make the time for Harry to show him completely through wizarding London.

 

It was quicker than he remembered to get back to the Leaky Cauldron. There were no bricks to tap this time; instead, as he had at the flat, Harry gripped his wrist and pulled him through a wall to enter the pub. “That is the oddest feeling,” Lucas commented. Harry just grinned.

 

Hannah wasn’t working yet, which disappointed but didn’t surprise Lucas. He ended up writing a note for her and gave it to the publican on duty. It was just a quick thank you, but seeing as he was a minority in this world and that he wanted to know it better, he thought his best manners should be on display.

 

The two men quickly grabbed a cab and rode the short trip to Thames House in silence. At the entrance to the building, Lucas showed his identification and then shot a worried glance at Harry. But the younger man pulled out a Muggle driver’s license to be registered as a visitor. “You can drive?” Lucas asked.

 

At this Harry’s ears flushed a bit and he gave Lucas a rueful smile. “Not well. I wouldn’t quite classify me as a menace, but almost. Hermione has been trying to teach me, but to be honest, she’s not much better.”

 

Lucas could just imagine. “You probably only need to use it when you are going undercover, right?”

 

“Or when I need a break. Taking a long broom ride and a long drive are both good for clearing my thoughts.”

 

“It only took me a little while to get back into it after eight years,” said Lucas. “When we have some free time, I’d be glad to teach you. And Hermione.”

 

“That would be awesome, Lucas.” Harry’s smile was wide and bright.

 

“We can go to near where I grew up. The only things you’ll be able to hit are trees and cows.” Lucas smirked. Harry just nodded.

 

As they entered the Grid, Lucas said, “Stick close to me so no one can get it into their heads you’re a spy _against_ us, alright? If, for some reason, you love me, stick with Ros or Jo. I’ll introduce you.”

 

Spotting Jo first, Lucas led Harry over to the desks of the field agents, set in the middle of the Grid. She looked up and said softly, “Hey Lucas.”

 

At her greeting, Lucas came around the furniture quickly, but stopped himself just before he would have hugged her. “You okay?” he asked.

 

“Yeah. Shite day, though.”

 

“Agree there. Harry, this is Jo Portman. Jo, this is Harry Potter from the Auror Corps of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.” He looked at Harry. “I get it right?”

 

Harry nodded as he stuck his hand out to Jo, and his smile changed from wide to ‘stun all the ladies.’ “Yes, you did, Lucas. Nice to meet you, Jo.”

 

She shook his hand. “Likewise, Harry.” She looked back at Lucas. “What’s going on?”

 

“I figured everything after yesterday would be up in the air. Since I stayed with Harry last night….” Lucas was sure he saw her eyebrows rise just a bit. “Don’t get all ‘shocked face’ with me, Jo. He kept me from drinking myself into a complete stupor after wandering around London for awhile.”

 

She moved closer to Lucas before saying, “Harry is seriously brassed off. Ros told him to leave you alone, though.” She paused. “Well, at least to not call out the dogs on you.”

 

Lucas took a deep breath. “I’m sorry to hear that.” He was interrupted by the sound of heels coming across the Grid. He turned to see Ros coming from the direction of Harry’s office. “Ros.”

 

“Lucas.” She looked him up and down before turning to Potter and saying, “He is in much better shape than I expected this morning, Auror Potter.”

 

“Harry. I assure you that he tried, but we have some tricks up our sleeve. Ms. Myers, I assume?” said Harry, against sticking his hand out to shake hers.

 

“Ros, please,” she said as she took his hand. “I’m glad to hear it because Sir Harry is in a temper and today, while bound to be better than yesterday, is not going to be a joy by anyone’s definition of the word.”

 

“Lovely. Those are the days I am made for,” said Harry.

 

“Grand. Shall we?” she asked, sweeping her arm across her body to indicate the conference room. “I’ll grab Ruth and let Sir Harry know you’ve arrived.” She wasn’t smirking (Ros could have a perfect poker face), but Lucas heard it in her tone. Learning Ros’s various vocal pitches had become a necessity on the Grid, and in less than a year Lucas was already starting to be fluent.

 

Lucas led Potter to the conference room and settled into one of the chairs closest to the door. Harry sat in one next to him, also close to the door. Jo quickly joined them, followed by Ruth. Lucas introduced her to Harry and, when she had gone to her own seat, murmured softly, “I can’t decide if she and Hermione would be best friends or mortal enemies.” Harry’s only answer was a jaw-splitting smile.

 

When Sir Harry and Ros joined them, Lucas would have sworn that the temperature of the room dropped. Lucas could see his boss’s anger at him reflected in his dark eyes, and he had to shrug off his discomfort so he could do his job.

 

Sir Harry started the meeting by saying, “Yesterday’s…event has seriously undermined the confidence of British citizens in the government, has several foreign governments demanding our heads, and large portions of Africa and other continents are in severe disarray.”

 

“You’re hitting all the high points, Harry,” said Ros. The look Sir Harry gave her clearly said to stop with her glib remarks.

 

“The Home Secretary is extremely displeased, and even more so when I told him that, as large as this particular issue is, it actually is a small speck in a larger conspiracy. It appears that Lambert’s backers had ties with the Bendorf Group itself as well as with Nightingale. We finally received the airport security photographs and hotel reservation details from Basel.” Here he sounded extremely frustrated, no doubt, thought Lucas, due to the length of time it had taken to procure the items. “Ruth?”

 

“Yes, well.” She flipped through papers before her, then brought individual photographs up on their projection screen. “We confirmed that both Sarah Caulfield and Oleg Darshavin were in Basel. Caulfield’s boss here in Britain, Samuel Walker, was not present, as we suspected. However, the supervisor for the entire European CIA branch, Russell Price, did attend the meet. We’ve also identified individuals from a multitude of security agencies, including China, Russia, India, Pakistan, Israel, Iran, Nigeria, and Egypt.”

 

“Bugger me,” breathed Harry next to him.

 

“There’s also a number of people that we’ve identified via Mister Potter’s lists as being members of the wizarding community with ties to these groups, both personally and financially. The biggest fish appears to be Lucius Malfoy, previously identified by Mister Potter,” she said. Changing the photograph on the screen and looking at Potter, she said, “There is also a number of accounts operating under the name of one Albus Dumbledore.”

 

Everyone in the room could hear Potter let out a large breath through his teeth. “Bugger,” the younger man said. “Albus Dumbledore is dead and has been for nearly ten years.”

 

Lucas turned in his seat to look at Harry’s face. “Bugger indeed.”

 

“Oh that’s not the worst of it, Lucas. Albus was the Headmaster of Hogwarts, the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot (the wizarding high court of law), and the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, the ICW, which is essentially like the United Nations, but with more power. He had authority over the whole of the wizarding world. If it gets out that someone is utilizing his name to kill Muggles and influence governments, that will compromise and destabilize the wizarding world nearly as much as these terrorist actions in Muggle Britain. It will be seen as to have his sanction, no matter that he’s deceased.”

 

Sir Harry looked unconvinced. “One man had that much influence?”

 

“Well, in Britain, certainly, but yes. His picture is on a chocolate frog card.” Harry waved his hand about. “A children’s sweet. Every magical knows his name and that he died fighting the Dark Lord Voldemort.” Lucas could almost see a shadow cross Harry’s eyes before he visibly shook it off. “It would be like learning the royal family here in Britain worked with the Nazis _and_ Al Qaeda.”

 

The room fell silent until Ros interrupted with a murmured, “Shite.”

 

“Between yesterday’s event and this news, well, we definitely have a situation on our hands. I’ve a formal meeting with the Home Secretary and the Prime Minister in two hours. What can I tell them?”

 

Potter spoke before any of the rest could reply. “You tell him that yes, this organization exists, is planning more high-profile events, and you’re all working to gather more intelligence. He should raise the threat level.” He barely took a breath before turning to Ruth. “We’ve identified a large number of Nightingale players, yes? Is there anyone we could turn and use as an informant? Let me see the list of wizards that you confirmed, as well.”

 

Ruth’s eyes just barely flicked to their boss before quickly flipping through more pages in front of her. “Here’s the list,” she said, passing the paper across the table to Harry.

 

Looking past Harry to Lucas, she let out a sigh before saying, “You know who the easiest person to turn would be, Lucas.”

 

Lucas wanted to shake his head, stick out his tongue, or roll his eyes, all very juvenile reactions. Instead, he just sighed. “I know. Caulfield.”

 

Ruth nodded. “Price is her immediate boss now. Perhaps she knows more than before.”

 

“Grand,” said Lucas. “I’ll arrange a meet.”

 

Jo looked skeptical. “You think she’ll tell you anything?”

 

Lucas shrugged. “We have to try, right? Harry, if you could be there, but not _be there_ , that would be good.”

 

Ruth cleared her throat to bring attention back to her. “There are quite a few financial transactions that I can get access to. Several banks work at their security to ensure that the government can’t get access to accounts or even get basic information out of them.” She paused, flipping through paper again. “However, I just got a contact that says he’s from Dewitts Bank and has information on the depositors.” She flipped back through her papers again before saying, “That’s the bank that holds these accounts under Dumbledore’s name.”

 

Sir Harry sighed. “It appears the wheel is finally turning in earnest. Ros, I want you to take on the handling of this Dewitts informer. He could be very valuable.” He turned to Ruth. “Ruth, you keep digging and making the connections. Lucas, seek out Sarah. Jo, you and I will look through the list of people who were at the Basel meeting and see if we know anyone. If not, we’ll pick someone at random to interrogate.”

 

Potter broke in, saying, “I can do the same on the wizarding size. I agree, it appears we are nearing the endgame.”

 

“Lucas, you’ll also be backup for Jo and Ros,” said Sir Harry. “And continue to liaise with Auror Potter, of course.”

 

“I’ll need to be updated immediately if you get information about who has access to Dumbledore’s accounts,” said Harry. “That will be a major wizarding world player to neutralize.”

 

“You all have your assignments. Everyone, out. I need to speak to Lucas,” said Sir Harry.

 

Lucas sighed as he watched everyone exit the room. He told Potter to go with Ros before leaning back in his chair. The situation felt far too familiar. Really, it was Darshavin all over again. The disappointment in Sir Harry’s eyes was nearly visible.

 

“What happened yesterday can’t happen again, Lucas.”

 

Lucas was quick to reply, his anger white-hot and bubbling just below his skin. “What part of yesterday? The part where I spent six hours trying to talk down a hostage-taking terrorist who followed none of the traditional hostage-taking _or_ terrorist rules?”

 

“You know that is not what I mean. It is the part where you walked out of here and disappeared for nearly a day.”

 

Lucas huffed before saying,” Well, at least it wasn’t eight years.”

 

Sir Harry visible reeled back, as if he had been slapped. “I beg your pardon?”

 

“I needed to clear my head. Ros was in here the whole time I was on the phone with Lambert. You didn’t need me and I needed the time for myself,” said Lucas.

 

“Perhaps you need a less stressful working environment,” snapped Harry.

 

“What I need,” Lucas made sure his voice was clear, calm, and quiet, “is a boss who trusts me.”

 

“You are making it difficult to do that.”

 

Lucas sighed again. “Harry, your first concern, once everyone was over, was for the loss of intelligence more than for the heath and well-being of two of your agents: Jo and myself. You remember what I said when I first came back, Harry? If I don’t have trust from MI-5, from you, then I’ll never really be home. I’ll just be back in England.” Lucas pushed his chair back and stood. “When all this with Nightingale is over, Harry, I have a feeling most of us are going to need a large number of therapy sessions. For now, I’m going to do my job.”

 

Lucas turned and left, not looking back through the glass walls of the conference room to see the look on Sir Harry’s face. He pushed himself to put on a neutral face and join his colleagues. He recognized that he was being petulant and difficult with Sir Harry, but couldn’t seem to help himself.


	18. Formulating Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Section D uncovers more Nightingale players and the wizards are more involved than anyone previously thought....

After the discussion with his boss, Lucas met Harry Potter near his desk. “Well, that was interesting and enlightening.” Behind him he heard Ros scoff. Turning, Lucas leaned against his desk, using the position to take in the whole of the Grid.

 

“Lucas, this is bad, really bad,” said Harry. “Not that it was good before, of course.”

 

“Of course.” Lucas hesitated only briefly before saying, “Well, looks like the current goal will be following the money. I should probably stay out of it: the last time Ros and I were involved in a financial situation it didn’t go well.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jo wince involuntarily. Next to her, Ros’s face went blank for a moment. Lucas inwardly grimaced, though he was able to keep it to himself. He knew she hadn’t liked or wanted to act as a honey trap for Alexis Meynell, and that it had affected her emotionally. The whole Meynell episode hadn’t been a good one for any of them.

 

“So, should I confront Caulfield with what we know? Trying to pull information out of her on previous occasions didn’t really work,” said Lucas. “I’m not sure I could trust any of the information she did pass on, to be frank.”

 

“Why not both?” asked Harry. “Talk around the subject until you can’t any longer, then confront her with Basel.”

 

“I’d keep the fact that we know she killed Walker back,” said Ros. “That should be something we use to barter with later.”

 

“Alright,” said Lucas. “I’m going to have to think about how to do both of those things. You know I’d much rather use all the information and confront her with it like a punch to the face.”

 

Ros let out a soft _chuff_ of laughter. “Yes, well, for a spy you really aren’t that subtle, Lucas. I’m waiting for a reply from this Dewitts contact.”

 

“Lucas, I’d also like you to be with me when we do the interrogation on the wizarding side,” said Harry. “There may be nuances that I won’t pick up. I want to be here for your MI-5 interrogation as well.”

 

“I’ll keep you updated,” said Jo. She handed Harry her mobile. “Put your number in there. Just in case Lucas gets distracted by something else.”

 

Lucas very determinedly kept his opinion that Sir Harry would keep him out of the loop to himself.

 

“I should be getting back to the Ministry. I have to lay out my reasons behind wanting to interrogate Lucius Malfoy besides that fact that he’s an evil, sadistic prick that has been involved in wizarding terrorism since the 1970s. Maybe we can finally get him convicted of something,” said Harry. His voice was a grumble nearly under his breath. “It was lovely to meet you both. Lucas, I’m assuming you have to show me out?”

 

Lucas nodded as he began to head toward the elevator. Once inside, he sighed before saying, “I don’t think getting the Bendorf Group blown up was part of Nightingale’s plan. But I don’t know if that means they will speed up or slow down. I don’t have a feeling either way. Though I will say that even for a spy this situation is tiring. I’m ready for some direct conflict where I can actually _do_ something.”

 

“It will come, Lucas. And sooner than you think, is my feeling,” said Harry. When they reached the Thames House lobby Harry surrendered his visitor badge before following Lucas outside. “Be careful, and we will keep each other informed about our meets and interrogations.”

 

Lucas nodded as he watched Harry stride down the street and disappear into an alley. He took a deep breath of the damp London air before letting it out in a large sigh. Forcing himself to go back into Thames House, he trudged his way up to the Grid.

 

He really didn’t know what to do about Caulfield. While she had been quite willing to sleep with him, probably to get intelligence, he hadn’t noticed any indication that she would give up any herself. The only time she had truly lost any control had been when Darshavin was mentioned, and Lucas didn’t want to talk about _him_. Bad enough to deal with Caulfield without bringing up memories of Russia, too. No, the more Lucas thought about it, the more he realized that subtlety wasn’t going to work. He felt himself grin as he remembered Hermione saying that Caulfield wasn’t subtle. Thinking of the young witch brought the image of her face into his mind and a smile to his face. He literally pinched himself, grabbing the skin of his left wrist and squeezing. He couldn’t let himself get distracted.

 

So if subtlety was out, then it had to be brute force. Which meant he had to get all the documentation of what they knew about Caulfield and Nightingale from Ruth. The meet location would have to be somewhere he could control the situation, and Caulfield, if need be. While he knew he could lure her to his apartment, that was not a tack he particularly wanted to take here. An MI-5 safehouse was the best bet. Section D had changed all their safehouses and protocols after Connie had given all the details to the FSB. Lucas ground his teeth without thinking. He still didn’t understand the woman’s motivations, and for her last words to be a confirmation that she was the one to betray him to the Russians, leading to his eight year stay…. He was still working out his feelings there, as well. However, He forced himself to push those feelings away to focus on the current issue.

 

Conspiracies within conspiracies, like those Russian nesting dolls. It drove him crazy, to have so many layers in this game, all influencing each other. How a person could decide to betray their country – Lucas couldn’t understand it. And if he didn’t understand it now, after being at the mercy of the FSB for eight years, he never would. Because if anything would induce someone to change sides, it was eight years of torture. Lucas shook his head to get himself back into _work_ mode. He began making his plans for the confrontations, but he had to time it just right.

 

* * *

 

Preparations for his “meet” with Caulfield were coming along slowly as Lucas waited for just the right situation to come along. Just as he was ready to begin, however, Ros’s banking asset at Dewitts began paying off. She called all of Section D into the conference room for an early morning meeting about a week after they had received their assignments to discuss next steps.

 

Ros brought an image up on the screen. “This is our asset, one Ryan Baisley. He has a partner, Sophie, and a stepson, Ethan, as well as an ex-wife and a daughter, Leah. Everyone except the ex-wife has been taken into protective custody on the pretense of going on holiday, though without Baisley, who is still going to work as if everything is just fine. We are just about to pull him out, actually, and shove him into protective custody as well. He has been giving us, in piecemeal parts, the names and bank accounts of some very rotten depositors, including government officials, dead wizards, and Nightingale. We also have security footage of some of the people that accessed those Nightingale accounts, even though most of the actual banking is done electronically, of course.”

 

“Damn,” was Lucas’s only reply.

 

“Most of the people that actually went into the bank are low-level players. However, a mid-level person of interest within Nightingale has emerged.” She paused as she changed the photo on the projection screen. “This is David Jones. That is an alias. He is the one access Dumbledore’s accounts at Dewitts, as well as other Nightingale accounts. So we are assuming he is a wizard or has connections to the wizarding world. Lucas, can you send Potter the photo?”

 

Lucas immediately snapped an image with his mobile and texted it to Potter. “Done.”

 

“We’ve been monitoring the calls, emails, and texts of known Nightingale operatives.” She pointed to Jones’s photo. “He has been in contact recently with Caulfield. We can only get standard details on him, which, of course, is an even greater indication of an alias and someone we need to examine further.”

 

“Has Caulfield made any other suspicious contacts?” asked Lucas.

 

“Indeed.” Ros pulled up another set of photos. “As I said, we have Baisley’s families in protective custody and we are quite close to pulling him out of Dewitts as well. These two gentlemen are freelance assassins. On the left, Semyon Martova, Russian mercenary and ex-KGB. On the right, Shimon Tarkay, ex-Mossad.”

 

“Mossad?” asked Jo. “What’s Israel got to do with this?”

 

“Well, he is _ex_ Mossad. He probably can’t get legitimate intelligence work,” said Ruth. “And Israel has been on our internal Nightingale list.”

 

“You think they’ll go after Baisley?” Lucas asked, looking at Ros.

 

“I do, hence bringing him in early. I don’t think that Nightingale would use these two for a protective detail – both of them have a string of suspected kills nearly as long as my forearm,” said Ros. “And, to make our lives _truly_ exciting, they are both already in London.”

 

After a moment the silence was broken by Lucas’s muttered, “Crap.”

 

Ros just nodded. “So far Baisley has identified two dozen accounts at Dewitts that have some affiliation with Nightingale. That’s in addition to the drug barons, warlords, and dictators, most of whom are running amok due to the demise of the Bendorf Group.”

 

“This is a mess,” said Jo.

 

“And to top it off, I heard from Harry that the British government is about to enter some weird financial crunch where we are essentially ‘temporarily bankrupt,’” said Ros.

 

“What?” Jo, Ruth, and Lucas all gasped at once.

 

“Yes, it will only be for about a two-day window, but within that window a payment on the national debt is due. It is because of the wild fluctuations in the markets, from what I understand.” Ros made a waving motion with her hand. “I’m not a banker or an economist. I just play one on telly. All I know is that we can’t borrow these funds, even though the government bailed out the banks not six months ago.”

 

Her audience continued to look at her blankly. “If our government does _anything_ out of the ordinary financially, the pound will go into freefall and we shall really be bankrupt rather than just temporarily bankrupt. To waylay this crisis, the Chancellor intends to confiscate monies from Dewitts accounts because of illegal activities and tax evasion. Hence needing to keep Baisley in as long as possible, but also ensuring his protection,” said Ros. “By the way, I got a message from Harry that he is going to be with the Home Sec, the PM, and the Chancellor essentially indefinitely.”

 

“So do you think Caulfield is calling the shots, no pun intended, on Baisley? Do I need to get her somewhere she can’t communicate with her assassin friends sooner rather than later?” asked Lucas.

 

“Unless she’s already given them orders,” said Jo. “She might not even be in contact with them regarding Baisley anymore.”

 

“Oh, I think she’ll want to know what he’s told us. I bet they don’t have standing orders to kill,” said Ros. “Nightingale is going to need to know if they need to move their money.”

 

Lucas’s mobile vibrated on the table, indicating a new text message. They all did _quite_ jump at the sound, but the room definitely became much quieter as Lucas picked up the device.

 

            _HP: Lucas, where did you get this photo?_

_LN: Security footage at Dewitts bank. Able to access Dumbledore’s accounts._

 

Lucas felt himself frown when he replied to Harry’s text.

 

“Well?” asked Ros.

 

“Something’s wrong. He asked where we got the photo.” He started to speak again when the mobile went off a second time.

 

_HP: Well, he looks like Ted Tonks, father of my boss. But he was killed during the war. And wouldn’t have been able to access D’s accounts anyways._

 

Lucas sighed and looked up. “So apparently a dead man is running around London.”

 

“I beg your pardon?” said Ruth, with a little squeak. “An actual dead man?”

 

“According to Harry. I’m inclined to believe him when he says someone died in their war. And while I was on the fence about the wizarding world being completed uninvolved in Nightingale other than financially, I’m beginning to change my mind.”

 

“Do wizards have some sort of mechanism to change their appearance so drastically?” asked Jo.

 

“We haven’t really talked about it. At this point, assume yes,” said Lucas, at the same time the mobile interrupted with another vibration.

 

_HP: This is worse than we thought. I’m going to have to alert the DMLE’s Minister. Looks like wizards are more involved than previously suspected._

 

Lucas quickly punched in his reply.

 

_LN: So wizards can change their appearance entirely? Seriously, Harry? This is important. How would we know if someone isn’t who they say they are?_

 

“Looks like the wizards are going into their version of a Red Flash,” said Lucas. “There was nothing to anticipate this level of involvement on their end.”

 

“Okay,” said Ros. “Next steps, please. Any ideas.”

 

“Pull in Caulfield and this person accessing the Dewitts accounts. Debrief Baisley and get him into protective custody ASAP,” said Lucas.

 

“I have to agree with Lucas here,” came from Jo.

 

“As soon as we do that, we lose any momentum on new activities,” said Ruth.

 

“We might end up two steps behind, but right now it is more like 15, Ruth,” Jo replied. “There might be even more we aren’t aware of.”

 

“I certainly hope not,” muttered Ros. She made her voice louder when she said,” What if we just bring in Baisley?”

 

Lucas shook his head. “I don’t think that will be enough. We need the account holders, definitely, and we need Tariq to watch those accounts like a hawk. None of that money can leave the bank, and not _just_ because Britain will go bankrupt without it. We can’t let it be used by Nightingale.”

 

“But if we freeze the bank’s assets, _if_ the Chancellor will even let us, we’ll let them onto the fact that we’re watching,” Ruth said, wrinkling her nose.

 

“True,” said Jo. “is there any way to freeze the accounts as well as the bank’s communications to all their account holders?”

 

They all looked at each other before Ruth said, “Let me get Tariq and Malcolm.”

 

As they waited for the three Section D members to return, Lucas got yet another text from Harry.

 

_HP: Remember the Polyjuice potion I mentioned? Uses a person’s hair to change into that person. Only for an hour though, before it has to be taken again._

 

Lucas relayed this information to the rest of the group. “So we could interrogate this person for an hour and see who he turns back into.”

 

Ros shook her head. “If we grab this David Jones person, we need to grab Caulfield as well. And probably put a tail on our assassins.”

 

“If we interrogate Jones, Potter needs to be here to ascertain his wizarding identity. And he wanted to be there for Caulfield’s, too,” Lucas reminded her.

 

Ruth came back into the room with Tariq and Malcolm in tow. Jokingly, Lucas said, “I don’t suppose you could freeze assets but make them look normal, and maybe also make it look like the government made a national debt payment without _actually_ making a payment so we can keep from going bankrupt? Just a delay, really.”

 

Malcolm and Tariq looked at each other before turning back to Lucas. “We probably shouldn’t answer that question,” said Malcolm.

 

Lucas could feel his eyebrows go up before saying, “Bloody hell. I really don’t want to know the extent of what you two can do.”

 

“The problem with the first request is that we need to be able to access Dewitts internal computer network. They have it securely locked down. We’d have to get somewhere there in person,” explained Tariq.

 

“Crap,” said Jo.

 

“If we do that, we definitely need to pull Baisley first,” said Ros.

 

“Agreed,” Lucas replied.

 

“It’s pretty complicated,” said Tariq and Malcolm together. Tariq continued, “Someone would only have about a minute to install the chip into the bank President’s terminal. It’s the only computer with an outside connection.”

 

“Are we sure that Dewitts isn’t the one that contacted the assassins for Baisley?” asked Ruth. “I mean, that makes more sense than Nightingale at this point. Dewitts could want to keep all the illegal dealings secret.”

 

“They could be working together,” Jo interjected. She paused before letting out a frustrated groan. “We can’t see where the money came from that is paying these assassins, can we?”

 

Tariq shook his head. “Not without getting inside the bank.”

 

“What if we pull them all in? Baisley, Caulfield, this Jones person, and the assassins,” suggested Jo.

 

“It could cause Nightingale to speed up their plans,” said Lucas.

 

“Which we don’t know at the moment. Shit.” Ros pushed her hair back from her face. “I hate conspiracies. They are so complicated. As soon as we pull Baisley Dewitts will know something is up even if they don’t connect it with Nightingale or us.” She paused again. “We’re essentially fucked either way.”

 

“So go back to the original plan: pull in this Jones person and Caulfield, tail the assassins, and watch Baisley at Dewitts until it appears he is in danger and put him into protective custody,” said Lucas. “Potter needs to know that this is the plan.” He pulled the mobile closer to type his message.

 

Before he could finish, Ros interrupted by saying his name. Her voice was quiet and firm. Then she said, “Guys, I need to talk with Lucas. Can you give us the room?”

 

Lucas leaned back in his chair and watched as the other Section D members filed out of the room. His voice was wary but controlled as he asked, “What’s going on, Ros?”

 

She sighed before saying, “Lucas, I’m just worried that this is suddenly going really fast. And while I’m usually very comfortable making all the decisions when our boss has gone walkabout, something feels off to me. I have to wonder if it is because of the addition of the wizarding element.”

 

Lucas rubbed his forehead. He understood her caution, but he was still frustrated. “I’ll be honest and say that yes, I’m concerned about the whole situation as it definitely seems to be getting larger by the moment. I don’t know what is going on with Sir Harry; again, I’ll be honest and say that we aren’t the best of mates right now. There’s still a lot of mistrust between us.” She was nodding along as he spoke. “I also know that this situation feels out of control due to the fact that the wizarding world is involved; it cuts us in half. There’s an aspect to this we are never going to understand, no matter how long I liaise with Potter.” She nodded again. “However, Ros,” he said, pausing and making sure she looked at him directly, “we have no reason not to trust Potter. I would not lie to you.” He tried to emphasize each word and make his point very obvious.

 

She sighed as waved a hand about. “Alright, Lucas. You convinced me. I didn’t mean to doubt you.” And _that_ was the closest he’d get to an apology. “Should we put the plan in motion?” She stood up from the table and indicated for Lucas to follow. He did so, deleting his message to Potter as he walked. When they reached the desk area of the Grid, Ros said, “Jo, you pull in this Jones person. Take CO19 with you.” Turning to Lucas she said, “You’re responsible for Caulfield. Get her somewhere where she can be secured for a longer period of time. Not here. Jo, you can bring Jones here.”

 

“And you, Ros?” asked Ruth, a tone not quite at ‘sarcastic’ clear in her voice.

 

“I can’t believe I’m going to do this, but I have a contact in the FBI. Since we can’t trust the CIA, but we know the Americans have a horse in the race, that’s the best tactic I can think of. Objections?” She looked more to Lucas than to Ruth.

 

Lucas shook his head. “None here. It’s a good idea and should strengthen our intel. For all we know they could be following the CIA and its financials as well. And we don’t want them to tip off the CIA about anything we end up doing.”

 

“Alright. Keep me updated by text or call if necessary,” said Ros. Ruth walked away to join Malcolm and Tariq, muttering to herself. Jo was already with the two computer analysts, tracking Jones via London cameras and hoping he hadn’t gone back to his original appearance.

 

Lucas sat at his desk and composed a text to Caulfield asking for a meet. He then rewrote his message to Harry.

 

_LN: About to pick up Caulfield for a long period of interrogation. I know you wanted to be there for that. I can send you the address of the safe house where she will be held._

 

A second message to Harry indicated that they were bringing Jones (in the guise of Ted Tonks, deceased) in for question and discovery of his actual identity. It wasn’t long before Lucas received a reply.

 

_HP: We’re in a bit of a mini-crisis here, but send me the address of the safe house. This definitely needs a joint operation. We are getting close to answers, Lucas._

 

Turning to Ros, Lucas said, “Can we trust CO19? If we are going to keep Caulfield at a safe house for the duration rather than throwing her into an interrogation room here, I’m going to need backup. Eventually I will need to sleep.”

 

Ros sighed again. “I’ve mentioned my dislike of conspiracies, right?”

 

Despite the circumstances, Lucas let out a bark of laughter. “Yes, you have.”

 

“I want Caulfield and Jones kept apart,” said Ros. “But you could bring her here after we have him in custody. So you’d only need to watch her for a day, tops.”

 

“And CO19 is good to use for Jo’s backup and to watch our two assassin friends to make sure they stay away from Baisley?”

 

“Yes, because they don’t need any specifics to do either of those things.”

 

Lucas nodded. “Okay.” He waved his mobile. “I’m waiting to hear from Caulfield. Potter’s text indicates that something big is happening on their end as well. A ‘mini-crisis,’ he said.”

 

“But no specifics?” asked Ros.

 

Shaking his head, Lucas said, “No, but for all I know I could be a rampaging giant that has nothing to do with us, rather than Nightingale.”

 

She stared at him gamely. “And the odds of that are?”

 

He sighed. “Slim, I know.”

 

“Just be careful and aware. I’m going to set up a video conference with my contact at the FBI. If you’re still on the Grid, you can join me.” At that, she left to talk to Malcolm and Tariq.

 

Lucas looked through his choices for dealing with Caulfield. The safehouse he had chosen was far away from anything MI-5 or security services-related, and his own flat was the nearest place to it. It was more like the derelict house he had taken Dean and Sarah Mitchell to than anything else. Lucas felt a pang for the boy that had been killed on his watch and sighed to himself. Sarah, his mother, had moved out of their house to live with her own mother, and had taken a settlement from the security services: monetary equivalent of what they had been offering her and her son for relocation. He made a mental not to himself to have someone check on her when Nightingale was finished. Sarah Mitchell hated seeing him, but Jo or Ros could make sure she was ok.

 

Lucas caught himself rubbing his armband tattoo again. He game himself a mental shake and purposefully moved his hand away. This was hardly the time for his memories and personal tics to come back to the forefront. But he couldn’t stare at his mobile waiting for message to come in, either. His nervous energy was beginning to make him twitchy. Taking a run would have been ideal, but he didn’t want to be away from Thames House that long. He opted for going up to the roof instead, but took the multiple flights of stairs rather than the elevator. He had let Ros know his plans so she could easily get him back to the Grid.

 

The air was wet and the sky a dark gray that indicated the heavens were about to open. Lucas kept a watch on them, _not_ wanting to get caught in a rain shower. A active, cold London rain, even at its lightest shower, was still too close to his waterboarding experience. It wouldn’t necessarily bring back flashbacks, but he knew, with his memories already bothering him so much, that the rain would make everything worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're about to get another crossover, because it makes sense to me. :)


	19. Gaining Allies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucas meets another wizard and their American brethren, and MI-5 digs deeper into the conspiracy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A photo of some of the team members for the American FBI can be found here: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/238479742743616704/.
> 
> From L-R: Agent Emily Prentiss, Behavioral Analysis Unit (BAU) Chief Aaron Hotchner, Doctor Spencer Reid, Agent Derek Morgan

Lucas had hoped to stay on the roof for maybe an hour to clear his head, but his mobile pinged after only 20 minutes. Sighing, he pulled it out of his pocket to see a request from Ros to get back to the Grid. He ran down the stairs, eschewing the elevator again and hoping the exercise would wake him up more. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to go through the doors to the Grid.

 

Ros was waiting for him, pouncing as soon as he entered. “Conference room. Our video is up with my FBI contact.” He nodded and followed her.

 

The screen was off when they entered the room. Ros closed the doors before turning it on, essentially sealing them in and keeping interruptions out. On the screen, Lucas saw a man probably about his own age, maybe a few years older, dressed in a dark suit with a background of bookshelves. It was obvious to Lucas that he was sitting at his desk in his office.

 

The man gave no obvious sort of facial indication that indicated he recognized Ros. He held himself ramrod straight, keeping that iron control over his body language. Lucas was both awed and concerned. He looked tired, close to haggard. Lucas compared his looks to his own when he came back from Russia, though he had been in worse shape and certainly not as in control. Ros had given no indication that this FBI contact had a similar background.

 

Lucas’s musings were interrupted when Ros said, “Hello Hotch.” He could feel his eyebrows rise. Hotch? What kind of name was that?

 

“Ros Myers. I confess I hadn’t thought to hear from you. It’s been a long time.”

 

“Yes, it has.”

 

Before Ros could say more, this Hotch person said, “You aren’t at 6 any more?” It was phrased as a question, but Lucas could hear his knowledge of her change in his voice: an attempt to confirm what she would tell him.

 

“No, I’ve been with 5 for over three years. But Aaron, we aren’t here to talk about me.” Hotch, _Aaron_ , waved his hand for her to continue. “This is my college, Lucas North.” Lucas gave a simple nod but didn’t speak. “We have an issue brewing with the CIA, and while I know your people aren’t usually involved in this sort of thing, I trust you and want to give you a heads up. We’ve got a global conspiracy and members of the CIA are in it up to their necks. We don’t know if it is the official line, though. And we also don’t want to move on the individuals and have America breathing down our necks.”

 

This information did crack the man’s iron veneer a bit. “What in the hell have you gotten into, Myers?” he asked, leaning forward and letting out a sigh. Before Ros could answer, he said, “Hold on a moment. I need to get one of my team in here.” They watched as his image left the screen and heard him open a door and yell, “Reid!”

 

Returning to the chair, he asked, “Does this have anything to do with this economic meltdown we’re all currently dealing with? And why are you coming to me, Ros? You know I’m not a part of a unit that deals with anything internationally.”

 

“No, but you’re someone I have faith in,” said Ros. “I know you, and you wouldn’t be a part of this conspiracy. How could I go to someone I didn’t trust, didn’t even know, when they could be a part of this?” She paused. “Plus, you’re a trained profiler, and so are the people you work with. Even more than we are. You might be able to figure out an end game that we haven’t, Aaron.”

 

Aaron sighed and ran his hands through his hair nervously. “We’re dealing with a pretty serious serial killer situation here, Ros.”

 

She snapped back, “And were’ dealing with a bloody global terrorist conspiracy that essentially wants to kill us _or_ throw the whole world into a global economic and political crisis. Complete anarchy.”

 

Lucas watched Aarons hand, which had been running through his hair again, abruptly stop. The look of horror on his face was interrupted by a knock on his office door. They watch as he got up from his chair to let in this Reid that he had called for, and pulled an additional chair into view. “Spencer, sit. This is Ros Myers, Section Chief of Section D of MI-5 and her colleague, Lucas North. They have a global terrorist conspiracy problem they need our help with.” Reid came into the picture and Lucas saw the younger man was using a pair of crutches.

 

To Spencer’s credit, he was able to keep a fairly neutral expression to this news. “Well, that is exciting. Nice to meet you. Doctor Spencer Reid.”

 

“Doctor?” Lucas couldn’t keep from asking the question.

 

“Mathematics, Chemistry, and Engineering.” No wonder Spencer looked nothing like those FBI agents Lucas had met previously, albeit very briefly. “I’m a real, live FBI agent.”

 

Lucas held up his hand in supplication. “I never doubted it.”

 

“Run through what you know,” said Aaron.

 

Ros did so, with only a few interruptions for clarifications from the Americans. Lucas watched the younger man’s face become grimmer as further details were elucidated. Lucas occasionally dropped further comments, which they all took in stride.

 

When Ros had finished explaining everything they knew on the MI-5 side, she paused and gave Lucas a glance, able to ask him questions with her eyes. It amazed him that he could read her so, but then realized that he could only read what she wanted him to. In this case, the inclusion of the wizarding world. Was it really right for them to ‘out’ Harry Potter and his world to the nosy American FBI? Harry and Hermione had both mentioned the isolationism of the American wizarding community. However, using ‘classified,’ ‘confidential,’ or ‘anonymous sources’ wouldn’t help them in the long run. When Lucas had made his decision in his head, he looked over at Ros who had a smirk on her face. Apparently he had looked quite far away as he thought. “Go ahead. I’ll fill in where needed,” he said.

 

Ros just sighed again and the two Americans looked even more curious. “This next part isn’t a joke, I forewarn you. But I have to ask if either of you, or any of your team, have had any contact with…the wizarding world?” Her small pause _almost_ went unnoticed by Lucas.

 

Lucas and Ros watched the two Americans exchange their own glances before speaking. “We’ve had contact before, yes,” Spencer said slowly and deliberately. “They generally segregate themselves here and there is very little mingling.”

 

“So we’ve heard,” muttered Lucas.

 

“Apparently the wizarding world is also a part of this conspiracy,” Ros continued. “We have two contacts inside the wizarding law enforcement agency in Britain, which is part of their governing body. But if the CIA is involved–”

 

“And it is,” interrupted Lucas.

 

“Yes, at least at the individual level,” said Ros. “If the CIA has any type of relationship with the wizarding world in the US, then wizards there may also be part of this conspiracy.”

 

The four of them sat and simply looked at each other for a few moments. The silence was broken when Reid mumbled, “I’d rather have a serial killer than a global conspiracy.”

 

“And we do have a serial killer issue,” Aaron reminded.

 

Ros didn’t reply, but instead just stared at them both until Aaron sighed. “We have another member of our team that has had the most interaction with them. Send the files to our technical analyst and we’ll see what else we can find.”

 

“A better idea of a target or end game might be nice,” request Lucas, almost but not quite under his breath.

 

A brief, small smile flickered over Aaron’s face. “We’ll do our best, Officer North.”

 

“Thank you, Hotch,” Ros said. “It truly is appreciated. You, too, Doctor Reid.”

 

Reid nodded but didn’t respond. He wheeled out of sight of the webcam via the desk chair, but Ros and Lucas could hear him then using the crutches to leave the room.

 

Lucas felt his mobile vibrating. It was certainly getting a workout today. Pulling it out of his pocket he saw Caulfield’s name. “Excuse me,” he said to both Ros and Aaron, still visible on the screen. “I have to take this.”

 

He got out of his chair and began walking out of the conference rom as he pressed the ‘connect’ button. “Hello Sarah.” He closed the door at Ros’s indication and moved out to his own desk.

 

“Lucas. I got your message. What’s going on? More ridiculousness from your café-owning friend in North London?”

 

He had to bite his tongue to refrain from sighing; thank goodness a phone call meant he could roll his eyes as much as he liked. “Sorry about that. Like I said at the time, I was just passing along intel. Which is actually why I was calling you.”

 

“Oh?” She didn’t really sound interested. He had to figure out something to say that would pull her in but not give any of the game away.

 

“It isn’t really something I can discuss over the phone,” he said. “Do you have time for a meeting? It’s important.” Hopefully he sounded earnest enough without supplying any details.

 

He could hear her heavy sigh before she replied. “I’m stuck in budget meetings the next two days. With Walker gone, I’ve had a whole mess dropped into my lap. Does it need to be sooner?”

 

She was good. It was a believable story and he couldn’t tell from her voice over the phone if she was lying. It was work as long the ‘rendezvous’ with Jones didn’t get her tipped off. Jo would have to let CO19 take care of the physical nature of their meeting. “As far as I’m aware, that is ideal. Let’s say at one in the afternoon on Thursday, then. I’ll text you the address. We need a little more privacy than a pub in London.”

 

“Oh really?” The tone of her reply changed the momentum of the conversation so much Lucas would have sworn he heard her ears prick up like a dog’s.

 

“Yes, well,” he said, drawling out all the possibilities in his tone even as his body wanted to run, screaming, in the other direction. “Until then?”

 

“Of course, Lucas.”

 

As the call ended Lucas barely refrained from letting out a full body shudder. He stared at the phone for a moment before texting Potter the details of the meet and requesting his presence at the location prior to Caulfield’s arrival.

 

His next order of business was a text to Jo letting her know that she needed to stay away from Jones physically until he was actually in custody, to ensure Caulfield wouldn’t be warned.

 

Lucas sighed to himself. The impact of the deaths of the Bendorf Group members was already being felt in Britain as the value of the pound dropped but prices increased. There hadn’t quite been a run on the banks like they had seen earlier this year with the Highland Life crisis, but that wasn’t far away. The media were blaming the Prime Minister, the Home Secretary, and all the Security Services for the breakdown that allowed it to happen. And if they couldn’t get through this latest financial crisis, then Britain would become a backwater, unable to feed its people much less influence global policy.

 

He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. Eight years in Russian prisons had severely impacted his ability to see conspiracies like this as clearly as he needed to. Even one year back on the Grid only scratched the surface of the levels of conspiracy in play. Darshavin was a sadist, not a criminal mastermind. Even Katchimov for all his chess-playing abilities and antics, was not in the league of those that had set this up.

 

“Lucas.”

 

He turned in the direction of Ros’s voice. She looked more concerned that she had when he had left their meeting with the FBI. “What’s going on?”

 

“I’m glad we contacted them, but I don’t know if we should hold any hope they are going to find anything. The serial killer they’re chasing….” She closed her eyes and her mouth went tight. “He hurt Aaron and put him in hospital. And threatened his wife and kid. They’re in protective custody. I just don’t think they’ll be able to focus on anything else. But I’m going to have Ruth get all the intel together.”

 

No wonder the man had looked so haggard. Lucas pushed any rising thoughts of Russia away. “That is terrible. Alright, I won’t hold my breath.” He paused a moment before continuing. “I set up the meet with Caulfield. It’s going to be on Thursday. I won’t give her the address until just before we are scheduled to meet. I let Potter know as well, but haven’t heard back. Also told Jo to keep away from Jones until he is custody in case the CIA or Nightingale are watching him. Or us.”

 

She nodded. “Harry is still with the PM and Home Sec, as far as I know. I think we are going to running this on our own. I’ll be the contact for the FBI.”

 

“Alright.” He knew she didn’t really like to be touched, and to be frank, neither did he, but he put his hand on her forearm just briefly “We will figure this out and it will be okay.”

 

Her eyes narrowed at him as she pulled away, but only slightly. “You usually aren’t one to put forth useless platitudes.”

 

Lucas just shrugged at her. “Ruth’s busy. I wouldn’t want you to go without.”

 

Her bark of laughter accompanied a slight smirk.

 

* * *

 

Lucas was resigned to spending the next few days at the Grid and then at the safehouse with Caulfield. He had made a quick run to his flat to grab a few changes of clothes, his razor, and a brush, as well as a few sweets that he could use for a quick pick-me-up. They could always get food delivered to Thames House, but it was more difficult to get his favorite biscuits delivered. For sleeping, there was a room of bunks on the floor above the Grid, though it wasn’t used very often. Generally, the thought was that there was rarely something so important that they couldn’t get away from the Grid to sleep.

 

He had run by the flats of the ladies on the Grid to do the same, putting on his perfectly detached demeanor as he packed bras and underthings for his coworkers. With his meeting with Caulfield delayed, he had been the only free person in their Section. He was glad to notice that even just a glance (as little as possible, really) didn’t make him want any of his coworkers. Instead, it only made him think of Hermione and what she might wear.

 

Lucas sighed and shook himself away from this fantasy as he was rifling through Jo’s kitchen cabinets, looking for her chocolate stash. He could feel his face flush, however. He should really appreciate the trust they all had in him, letting him not only into their homes but also into their closets. He could distinctly remember some of his mates from university getting very twitchy when their girls wouldn’t allow them into their closets. An odd conversation to remember so many years later, he thought. Of course, none of them had enough time outside of work to have anything approaching a true social life, so the potential that he would discover something ‘out of the ordinary’ was minimal.

 

He didn’t remember having this level of trust and camaraderie with his peers before Russia. He and Tom Quinn had had a cordial but adversarial relationship. Hired roughly at the same time, they often tried to one-up each other. That had continued all the way until Lucas had been named Section Chief, just before going to Russia. He shook his head. They had all been so young then. That had been one of the hardest parts about coming back to the Grid. He stopped asking what had happened to people he had known before: the combinations of pity, worry, guilt, and sadness on each person’s face became too much to bear. Half dead and half decommissioned from his first phase at MI-5.

 

Lucas noticed himself rubbing the armband tattoo again – he really needed to shake himself of that habit. As well as reminding himself to not get maudlin while on the job, even if it was packing clothes for his coworkers. He pushed those thoughts away, again. He could recognize that they would come back, and probably sooner that he would have wished. The downside of being a polymath with a really good memory.

 

As he finished at Jo’s house, he mentally checked off the boxes on his lists. Jo – chocolate. Ruth – the _good_ coffee. Ros hadn’t asked for anything in particular, and her flat was also the one he was least likely to rifle through. He couldn’t remember her ever eating anything on the Grid, but she had enjoyed the pastries in the party aftermath. While he had never been there, he recalled a bakery he could stop at on his way back to Thames House.

 

When he returned to the building, it was almost but not quite on lockdown. Even with showing his ID, the security staff insisted on going through each bag he carried, though he insisted it be done out of the main lobby. Twenty minutes later and he was released to go back up to the Grid. The day seemed interminable, even with his luggage respite. Coming out of the elevator, he nearly collided with Jo.

 

“Oh, Lucas. I’m sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.”

 

“Everything okay? Did you find Jones?”

 

She sighed. “Yes, but it didn’t go well. He ran and I got involved and we had to taser him to get him into the car.” Her statement was quickly followed by a jaw-cracking yawn.

 

Lucas indicated her bag, a small rolling suitcase he was pulling with his left hand. It was the same she had used for the party. “Did you want to take this, or should I leave it at your desk?”

 

“I’ll take it, thanks. Will you let potter know that Jones is in custody? We have him in a secure interrogation room until this potion wears off.” Her eyes widened. “I suppose we need to hope that he is the only one using the potion and that there aren’t multiple copies of the man out roaming London.”

 

_Crap_. “I guess I’ll tell Malcom and Tariq to look at the closed-circuit camera footage to see if they can find anyone else that looks like jones using the facial recognition software.”

 

“And I’m going to run this upstairs and then continue to watch Jones,” said Jo. “And wait. He’s already been in custody 15 minutes, it took us 10 to chase him down, and another 10 of watching him. So if Potter is correct on the time, we don’t have much longer before we get another clue.”

 

Lucas rubbed his hand along his facial stubble: another nervous tic he was noticing. “Hopefully we’ll get more answers and less _clues_ out of him.”

 

She nodded solemnly before entering the elevator.

 

He left Ros’s back on her desk next to a box of baked goods; he’d gotten a variety so hopefully there was something she liked. Ruth, while at her desk, was on the phone, rifling through papers, and typing to the computers systems all at the same time. He didn’t want to interrupt.

 

Lucas then moved to Tariq and explained the Jones potential issue. The two computer analysts were taking shifts, except when extreme brain and computing power were needed. Tariq just sighed and said, “Seriously? If I ever need to be in witness protection, I’m calling Auror Potter.”

 

Lucas smirked. “Apparently the potion takes like Goblin piss. Whatever that is.” Tariq’s face was priceless, all scrunched up like he had taken a full bite out of a lemon. It made Lucas laugh out loud. “Have you seen Ros lately?”

 

“Yeah,” said Tariq. “She’s in the boss’s office on the phone with him.”

 

Lucas nodded before heading in that direction. Looking through the glass walls of Harry’s office, he could easily see the frustration and emotional exhaustion pouring off Ros in waves as she paced, nearly palpable in the room and beyond. She looked through the glass and, seeing him, motioned for him to enter.

 

“The sooner you could get back here, the better, sir.” She paused for a moment, listening, then said, “We’re doing what needs done. It would just be better if you were. Global crisis and all that.”

 

Lucas watched her neatly pace behind and beside Harry’s desk: three steps behind and two on either side, never making a full circle around the piece of furniture. Her hair was more mussed that usual, even more so than after running for a terrorist or a bomb. He had to admit that it was a bit disconcerting to see her this way.

 

While he waited, he sent another quick message to Potter to let him know that they had taken Jones into custody and were waiting for him to ‘change’ into his ordinary face. Lucas received a quick, short reply of “be there soon,” which didn’t match how Potter’s texts were usually composed. But then, Lucas though, perhaps their issue had grown to where it was a larger problem than originally thought.

 

He watched as Ros nearly slammed the phone down into its cradle. “Harry is stuck with the PM, Home Sec, and the Chancellor. There are some financial media rumblings that they are trying to get ahead of.”

 

“Lovely. That’s just what we need,” Lucas said. “Bloody Internet.” He waved his mobile at her. “Potter says he will be here soon.”

 

“Good. I haven’t pulled Baisley yet out of Dewitts, but I’m thinking we should now.”

 

Lucas nodded. “Yes. He needs to be here or in a safehouse ASAP. Especially if the media has gotten wind of anything. Even if it has nothing to do with him the bosses there might start worrying over or suspecting everyone. And we don’t want them to take a hard look at him at all, but at least until we can get him away.”

 

Ros nodded. “What do you think: better to stage something and pull him out with false fanfare, or let it happen quickly?”

 

“Don’t we already have his family out on holiday as a cover? We can use that, even if we make it seem like a last minute decision,” said Lucas.

 

“Don’t know if Dewitts will let him go on vacation without notice.”

 

“Stage an emergency for the family on holiday then. Something that affects the ex and the daughter. We’ll want to keep anyone who looks like they have a badge or carries a gun far away from him and Dweitts for as long as possible, though.”

 

Ros just nodded again. Lucas was about to continue his thoughts when his mobile rang. Shrugging at Ros, he looked at the screen as was surprised to see the number for the Thames House lobby displayed there. “North.”

 

“Lucas, there’s a lady named Hermione Granger here with another bloke by the name of Longbottom. I told them it was awful late just to be stopping in, but she says she has to see you ASAP.”

 

“I’ll be right down, thank you,” he replied. He then looked at Ros. “Hermione Granger is in the lobby.”

 

Ros’s expression didn’t change as she asked, “What about Potter?”

 

Lucas just shrugged at her again as he got up from the chair. “I’m guessing it is going to be a long night. Might you go ask Ruth to put on some of her industrial strength coffee? I have a feel that I, at least, am going to need it.”

 

As he rode the elevator from the grid to the lobby his brain began to go into overdrive. Why would Potter send Granger, and who was the other person with her? Was she under duress? Surely Potter would have warned him, though he would have thought Harry would have given him a heads up about sending Hermione, too. He mentally shook himself and made a reminder to her _Granger_.

 

The lobby was silent, unsurprising for the time of night, even if terrorism and other criminal elements never slept and thus neither did their pursuers. Thames house was not a place a Londoner would wander into randomly.

 

Upon exiting the elevator, Lucas found his eyes immediately drawn to Hermi- _Granger_. Her companion wasn’t Harry, though. Striding to the desk, Lucas said, “Thanks, Nigel. I’ll take them up to the Grid.” The security guard just nodded as Lucas led them to the elevator. He forced himself to look at anything other than Granger.

 

“Agent North, I’m Neville Longbottom. I’m an Auror with Harry. He’s a bit tied up in our own version of this crisis and sent the two of us.” He stuck out his hand for Lucas to shake.

 

Lucas did so, and only then was able to look at Granger. “Hello, Hermione.”

 

“Lucas.”

 

“Welcome to Thames house, both of you. What’s going on?”

 

Hermione sighed as the elevator stopped and they stepped out. “Apparently this is wider spread in wizarding Britain than we first suspected. Harry found a connection in the DMLE who was passing money and information to MI-6.”

 

“Not the primary contact,” Neville broke in quickly. “Nymphadora Tonks is the Head Auror and she is their primary contact. But some information and money was passing from Malfoy to a Nightingale member and then to someone in MI-6.”

 

Lucas sighed. “We wondered. We took someone into custody as well. He’s going by the name David Jones, but apparently is wearing a dead man’s face.”

 

Hermione nodded. “Ted Tonks. Harry told us. Another reason by the Head Auror didn’t come: she didn’t want to see her father’s face on a traitor.”

 

“We’re currently waiting for the Polyjuice to wear off. I’ve got our technical analyst running CCTV footage of London to see if there is anyone else using it as well. He’s also been accessing the Dumbledore accounts at Dewitts bank.”

 

Neville interrupted, saying, “Apparently, at least a portion of Dewitts is also a branch of Gringotts. Lots of wizarding money is going through it into the hands of Nightingale.”

 

Lucas didn’t reply, but instead asked, “What is Harry doing?”

 

“Interrogating Lucius Malfoy,” said Hermione.

 

Lucas could feel his eyebrows nearly into his hairline. “Is that wise.”

 

“Tonks is with him,” said Neville. “The Head Auror.”

 

He shook his head. “Okay, before I take you down to where we are keeping Jones, let’s set up in the conference room and get everything out into the open. Let me grab my boss,” he said after he had led them into the room. “I’ll be right back.”

 

He wasn’t surprised to find Ros sitting at Harry’s desk. “Some wizarding friends have arrived. You need to hear this.”

 

“It’s terrible when you find yourself longing for being on a mission running from Russian assassins,” she said as she followed him out of the office.

 

What could he say to that, really?

 

It only took a few moments for them to get to the conference room where Lucas introduced Neville and Hermione to Ros. “Ros, Harry is currently interrogating the largest wizarding Nightingale player we know of – Lucius Malfoy. Also, Dewitts is  or has a branch of the wizarding bank within its system. Remember Ruth saying she couldn’t follow some of those leads? I bet they were wizarding account holders.”

 

She nodded. “I’m assuming you want to be in on our Jones interrogation? I’m going to pull our asset out of Dewitts ASAP. I’ll get Ruth and Tariq on the cover story.” She turned to Longbottom and Grange then. “Based on what Potter has told Lucas about Polyjuice and what the ops team gave for a timeline, the potion should have worn off. You two can come with me. Lucas.” She turned to him as they all stood up from the table. “You look like hell.”

 

“Thanks, I think?” he replied.

 

“Seriously. You need to be in top form to deal with Caulfield.”

 

“That’s not until Thursday afternoon.”

 

She huffed at him. “And it is nearly 2am Tuesday morning. You still need to set up the safehouse.” She moved closer to him, and said quietly in his ear, “Do not pull another Darshavin on me. I know you are the only one that can deal with her.” She pulled away and said in a louder voice, “I’m sure I won’t shock our wizarding guests too badly.”

 

He reallyw wanted to argue with her couldn’t. The safehouse was new and hadn’t been set up for surveillance or incarceration yet. They still had to figure out who this polyjuiced wizard was, and how he connected to Nightingale. When he felt resigned to her order, it must have been visible I his face as he watched her pull a smirk.

 

“If you two will follow me to our comfortable interrogation cell…” he heard her say as the three filed out of the room. The only high point was that he got to look at Granger’s bum. At least until she turned around and caught him looking just before the three entered the elevator and left the Grid. He let out a subvocal groan and closed his eyes in embarrassment before making himself get up to grab his bang and fall into one of those bunks. He hadn’t wanted to admit how tired this whole situation had made him.


End file.
